


Slenderverse Shipping One Shots

by Scourgefan12



Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0, Marble Hornets, Slender Man Mythos, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:31:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 59,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scourgefan12/pseuds/Scourgefan12
Summary: One shot chapters between Slenderverse characters, not much else to say. No xReaders or OCs, but I do accept other requests. All romance because that's pretty much all I can write.





	1. Intrusion(Firebrand X Noah)

Noah was awoken by what sounded like someone walking around his house. Well, awoken wasn't really the right word, since he hadn't been sleeping, he never really slept anymore, not counting when he would pass out from exhaustion after a while without sleep. Startled was a better word. He'd just been lying there in his bed, and for once he wasn't as on edge as usual, he was actually almost relaxed, then he heard it. He was sure he heard it, it was coming from outside his bedroom, and definitely sounded like something was there. Most people would shrug this sort of thing off as just their house settling, making them paranoid, but Noah knew better than that. He'd been being stalked by this group of things that resembled human shadows, they called themselves the Collective, and they'd been tormented by them for years. One specific one called The Observer was worse than the others, it had been the first to go after him, and it was the one that seemed the most violent towards him, and the most intent on stalking him.

Noah tensed up even more, then sat up, deciding he wasn't just going to let whichever fucker had decided to sneak into his house do what they wanted. He grabbed the knife he kept under his pillow. For a moment he considered taking his camera as well, in case something happened to him then whoever found him, if they did find him, would be able to see what happened. He decided against this, however, since a camera would most likely limit the things he could do to protect himself, considering he'd only have one hand to work with. Plus, if it wasn't Observer in his house, and instead it was the tall, faceless thing that seemed to lead the group of shadows, then there was a chance that his camera could break, or at least it would make whatever footage he got damn near impossible to upload.

Noah left his room as silently as he possibly could, creeping through the darkness. He momentarily considered turning on a light, but decided that would just attract whatever was in his house's attention to him. Besides, his eyes were adjusted well enough to the darkness at this point.

As he walked he could tell he was getting closer to this thing, he could sense its presence. Oddly enough, even though he was getting closer, he wasn't able to hear it anymore. It seemed as if it had stopped moving. Maybe it had heard him? He hoped not, but you could never really know with these things.

He stopped for a second, just to get a better grip on the knife. As he did so, something appeared in front of him. He let out a shocked scream and swung the knife on instinct. Instead of feeling the blade of his weapon stab something, he felt another hand grip his wrist, stopping him from attacking.

He didn't look at the intruder at first, just waiting for it to do whatever it had come for. He suspected it was going to kill him, or perhaps take him again, there was no way to really know what they were going to do unless he was informed beforehand, and even then certain things would usually get in the way and something completely different would happen.

After a few seconds of nothing happening he got curious and looked. It was one of the Collective, he could tell that much by how well it blended in. It took him a moment to identify exactly which one though, since it blended in so well. Once his eyes focused he recognized the pinhole eyes and smile almost immediately.

He wasn't sure exactly how to react to this. For whatever reason he hadn't been expecting this to be the one in his house. On one hand, he was slightly relieved, since this was the one that was on his side, or at least seemed to be. On the other hand, this was still a former Collective member, and while it had helped him before, that didn't mean he could completely trust it. Unsure of what to do, immobilized by the hold on his wrist, he just did the first thing to come to his mind. "Firebrand..?" He muttered, sounding somewhat surprised.

Firebrand's smile seemed to widen ever so slightly, as if he were amused by this reaction. "Noah." He greeted, ignoring the shock in Noah's voice.

Noah didn't quite like this. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, trying to pull away from the shadow.

"What I've been doing for a while." Firebrand said it as if it were obvious. At first Noah didn't quite understand, then he noticed the fortune cookie in Firebrand's other hand.

"You're really still leaving those things?" Noah questioned in an unamused tone.

"I can't really do anything else, if I stop then there's no chance of you making progress, but if I try to force you to go on then you'll be stubborn and refuse." Firebrand responded, putting the cookie in Noah's pocket. "Also, if I try something else then the Administrator might notice, and realize that I'm trying to help you."

"I'm sure there's something more effective you could do than just leaving those damn cookies." Noah said, taking the one from his pocket and dropping it.

Firebrand rolled his eyes. "Just be glad I'm bothering to still help you, you ungrateful fuck."

Noah decided to stop speaking, not wanting to anger Firebrand. As much as he wanted to tell him to fuck off, or to shut the fuck up and get out of his house, he didn't want to risk losing the one person who was willing to help him, or worse, get that person to turn on him. Even though the turning on him part was unlikely, considering Firebrand was him, and it would do more harm than good for him to try to harm himself, Noah figured it was best not to take chances.

Firebrand's anger went away almost as soon as it came. "Although, I guess if you really want me to try another method of helping, I could." He said to himself, his smile returning.

Noah was suspicious of the sudden mood change. "It depends on what you have in mind." He said cautiously.

"Well.." Firebrand used his free hand to take the knife out of Noah's hand, letting it fall to the floor, before letting go of his wrist. "Don't freak out, but I've just been noticing how stressed you've been lately."

That told Noah literally nothing in relation to what he'd said, but the 'don't freak out' part kind of worried him. "Yeah, it's pretty stressful getting stalked by some demonic cult lead by a freak in a business suit."

"Well, I don't really like seeing you so stressed and scared all the time, not only must that not be pleasant at all, but it also clearly makes it hard for you to focus on simple everyday things because of your fear, which could have bad results in the long run."

This was still telling Noah nothing. "What are you planning to do though?"

"You." Firebrand said, not sugarcoating anything, or beating around the bush, just getting straight to the point.

Noah stepped back in shock. "What the fuck?"

Firebrand calmly stepped forward so he was close to Noah. "You heard me."

Noah backed away again, still reeling in shock. "No, no you're not gonna fucking do that."

Firebrand was unfazed by his protests, if fact, he found them quite amusing as he continued to advance. "And why not?"

Noah really wished he still had his knife. "Why the hell would that even cross your mind?"

"Well, you see, sex is one of the best ways to de-stress, it's impossible to be stressed while having it, if you're doing it right that is, so therefore it would most likely help you relax."

Noah could hardly believe what he was hearing. Not only was a former Collective member offering to fuck him, but it was also himself. He was asking to fuck himself. He suddenly found himself wishing it had been Observer, or someone else who had the intent to harm him, that had entered his house. That seemed much more appealing than what was currently going on.

Firebrand chuckled at the look on Noah's face. "If you're worried about it being gay, then don't, it doesn't really count if you're with yourself." Firebrand, of course, knew that wasn't what Noah was worried about, it likely hadn't even crossed his mind, he just loved the reactions he was getting so far.

Noah was at a loss for words as he backed into the wall next to the door to his room.

Firebrand stopped after a few more steps forward, he was standing so close to Noah that they were almost touching, just almost.

Noah did the first thing that came to his mind, which was trying to punch Firebrand in the face. "Get the fuck away from-" He couldn't even finish his sentence before Firebrand grabbed his wrist again, stopping him.

"Just consider it." He tried to convince him. "Think about it, we're the same person, so it's not like one of us will do something the other doesn't like, in fact, we know exactly what the other likes because of that, plus neither of us have any friends or anything so it's not like anybody is gonna find out."

Noah didn't want to consider it, it was just weird, but curiosity got the better of him and he thought about Firebrand's words. Even though what he said was true, for the most part, that didn't negate the fact that this was himself asking to fuck him though.

Firebrand leaned in closer so their noses could touch. He was sure he'd already said everything he could to try to convince him, but that didn't mean he'd done everything yet.

Noah had already started blushing a bit when the conversation had shifted to this topic, and this caused his blush to darken.

Firebrand leaned in just a bit more, close enough for their lips to touch.

Noah tensed up, but didn't make an attempt to push him away.

Firebrand pulled away after only a few seconds, looking into Noah's eyes.

Noah sighed, realizing Firebrand wasn't going to give up so easily, he was referred to as 'The Stubborn' for a reason, he supposed. "Alright, fine, just this once though." He was still uncomfortable about the whole situation, but he supposed agreeing to do this wouldn't hurt anything.

Firebrand couldn't help but smile wider at that. "Great, but if you end up changing your mind at any point, make sure to say something."

Noah just nodded, relaxing ever so slightly as Firebrand leaned in again.

*****  
The two of them were lying in Noah's bed together, their foreheads touching.

Firebrand had an arm around Noah's waist, holding him close. "See, that wasn't nearly as bad as you expected it to be, was it?"

Noah laughed quietly. "Shut the fuck up." Although Firebrand was right, it had been better than he'd expected.

"You shut the fuck up." Firebrand said back, kissing Noah before he could attempt to respond.

Noah kissed back for a few moments before pulling away and moving closer to Firebrand, resting his head under his chin and closing his eyes. "I think I'm gonna try to get some shut eye, if Observer or any other cocksuckers get in, kick their ass for me, okay?"

Firebrand chuckled quietly at that. "Of course."


	2. Deep Sleep(Observer X Noah)

Observer stood outside the house of his victim, Noah Maxwell, blending into the shadows as he looked into the window of the man's bedroom, going completely unnoticed. He'd been stalking Noah for a bit over a year now, maybe even two years, he wasn't really sure, he didn't really bother keeping track of time. The point is, he'd been stalking, taunting and observing this person for quite a while.

It didn't go completely unnoticed, not even a little, Noah actually had a YouTube account where he uploaded proof of being stalked and such, he was completely aware of what was happening to him, he knew of the Collective, he knew of the non-human members of this group, he even knew of it's faceless, suited leader, causing all the chaos.

Observer had hacked into his account a few times to upload things for his viewers to see, and for him as well. There were also videos of Noah being taken, one where he almost got killed by some cult worshiping Observer's boss, one where he'd contacted another group experiencing problems with his boss. A lot had happened to his victim, and it had all started with Noah deciding to upload video of his cousin onto his account. It was kind of funny actually, all the awful things that had happened to him started when he decided he wanted to upload video of his late cousin. This, of course, wasn't what caused all this to happen, it all was destined to happen anyway, those uploads had just made it happen more quickly.

Observer stood, continuing to watch as Noah put his camera away, he hadn't recorded anything that day, but he had the camera in case anything happened worth recording. He was getting ready to lie down and attempt to sleep. Observer hoped that Noah would actually get to sleep, that way he could observe him from closer, sneaking into his room. He liked being able to watch him from closer, get a better look and all.

Observer watched his victim for a bit longer, he wasn't clear of exactly how long, it might've been a few minutes or it might've been a few hours. At some point, as he'd hoped, Noah had fallen asleep. Observer waited a bit after it happened before creeping into the house. He slipped in silently and crept through the place, eventually making his way to Noah's room. At first he stayed in the shadows, cautious that Noah might still be awake, or might be awoken easily. After a few minutes he began moving closer, until he was standing at the side of the bed.

He studied Noah's facial features, taking in as many details as he could in the dark room. After he was finished with that, he reached out one of his hands, brushing it lightly against his victim's face, gently enough to not make him stir from his sleep. A smile spread across his face as he did this, thinking as he did so. He thought about his victim.

Noah didn't yet know exactly why Observer had chosen to stalk him in particular. He had gotten some sort of order to do so at some point, but that wasn't actually the main reason, there were other reasons as well, more personal ones. There was actually a lot Noah didn't know yet, such as exactly what had happened to his cousin, or was going to happen to him. Noah was going to go through so much worse than he already had, and eventually he would become one of the Collective, Observer knew this because he'd met Noah's future self.

Noah, actually did know about Firebrand, and how they were the same person, he'd found out fairly recently, but he didn't know exactly how he was going to inevitably become him. It would surely be painful, mentally and physically, worse than anything he'd experienced so far.

Observer's smile fell slightly. He didn't want Noah to go through that, but at the same time he kind of did. It was strange, being a Collective member he liked seeing people, especially his victims, in pain, that's just how Collective members are. At the same time, part of him didn't want to see Noah experience that, for multiple reasons. For one, he didn't want Noah to become Firebrand, he didn't really care for the former member, despite the fact that he was Noah, just in a different form.

There was another reason though, as much as he hated to admit it, he'd taken quite a liking to this victim, he'd even said so himself in one of the videos he'd uploaded to the channel. He wasn't sure why this was, Noah wasn't different from any other person he'd stalked. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that his vessel was one of Noah's friends, Kevin, so he had some human in him, in a way. Although, that didn't seem right, it didn't seem like Kevin was the one who cared for Noah, there hadn't been any sign of him having those types of feelings before he'd become Observer.

He couldn't be sure, the only thing he could be sure of was that these feelings did exist. For the most part they never got in the way of his work, in fact, they helped him in a way. They let him do and say certain things that scared Noah more, which he wouldn't consider doing to any other victim.

Observer moved his hand away and examined Noah again. He looked so peaceful as he slept, much more so than when he was awake. Observer walked to the other side of the bed, where there was room enough for another person, and he took a seat, watching Noah from even closer. He started petting him again, less lightly this time. He also ran his hands through the other man's hair.

For a moment Noah began to stir, startling Observer and making him think he was waking up. It turned out he was just shifting position, he was actually a bit closer to Observer now.

Observer sighed in relief, seeing Noah was still sleeping, and relaxed. He continued where he'd left off, petting Noah's hair. He couldn't help but think about how soft it was, or maybe that was just him.

He watched Noah for a while longer, losing track of time as he stared at the human. Before he knew it he realized that the sun was beginning to rise. He sighed, his smile faltering. I guess it's time for me to go. He thought to himself, sighing as he got ready to stand up. But first... He looked back at Noah, brushing the hair from his face. He got closer, eventually getting close enough to press his lips to Noah's. He'd only done this once before, and it hadn't even been on the lips, it had been a quick peck on the cheek. He closed his eyes and moved his hand to one of Noah's.

After a few seconds he pulled away and stood up, leaving the house, heading back to the Collective realm. "I hope none of the other members ever find out about that." He said to himself, smiling.


	3. Nightmares(Deadhead X Mr Scars)

He felt the tendrils beginning to wrap around him as the darkness set in. They started just at his limbs, then moved upwards, until they were also around his torso as well, and his throat. After they grabbed hold of him they began to squeeze, as they did this, the area he was in grew a bit darker. At first it was just mild pain, more like irritation than anything, but it didn't take long for it to get much worse. He swore he could hear his bones cracking at some point, as well as feel blood begin to seep out of his stitched up throat. The stitches must have come undone at some point. At this point he could see almost nothing, and he began to feel numb. Right as his vision was about to fade completely-

Mr. Scars sat upright in an instant, barely stopping himself from screaming, his scream instead coming out as some kind of whimper. He brought his knees to his chest as tears began to form in his eyes. He muffled his sobs as best he could as he tried to calm down, or at least regulate his breathing.

Like most, if not all, of the other members, he'd experienced horrible nightmares ever since before he really knew about the Collective. Of course, they got worse the more involved he was with the whole thing.

Unlike the other members, his nightmares didn't end after he became one of the Collective. He'd been in the group for a fair amount of time now, and they showed no signs of stopping, in fact, one could argue that after he joined they got worse. After a while the Administrator kind of gave up on trying to stop them. Not that he, or it, ever really did much of anything in the first place, but he had sometimes kind of seemed like he might have been slightly concerned.

After a while he got his breathing mostly under control, as well as his tears, but that didn't mean he was calm now. Honestly, he didn't feel much better than when he'd awoken, but he was mostly under control now.

He let out a shaky sigh, knowing that he wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon, and he was probably going to feel like shit all day when morning came. He was used to this sort of thing by now though, unfortunately. It wouldn't be as bad if he had a friend or just someone in the Collective who was willing to at least try to care, but ever since his cousin, Firebrand, had left the group, he didn't really have any options.

There was his mother, but he hated her, well, as much as a son could hate their own mother, and he was sure the feeling was mutual.

Other members, like Swain and Persolus didn't know him, or care to know him. He didn't really mind though, if they didn't care then it obviously wasn't worth any of his effort.

Observer was a douche, end of story, so he was out of the question.

That was basically everyone. Well, actually, there was one more.

There was Deadhead. The two of them had talked a few times, enough times for Mr. Scars to consider them friends. They'd talked to each other about their human lives on a few occasions, or rather Mr. Scars had talked to the other member about his. Deadhead never really spoke of what his life as a human had been like, assuming he had once been human, like the other members.

Although he never spoke of his own life, he never had a problem with listening to Mr. Scars talk about his own. He'd actually helped the newer member a few times, for example, when he realized that he had to work in the Collective alongside his mother, he hadn't taken it too well, but after speaking to, or rather ranting to, Deadhead he felt a good deal better about the situation. He didn't completely get over it, he suspected it would take a long time for him to, if he ever did, but he could at least deal with it.

Another example was when Firebrand had first left, he didn't take that well either, since when it happened Firebrand was his only friend and all. Basically he did the same thing as before, and like before, Deadhead had helped him. Not only had he listened, but after Mr. Scars was finished he'd said that if he had any more problems that he shouldn't hesitate to go to him for help, he'd also referred to him as a friend almost in the same sentence. This was one of the most recent examples, they had known each other for a while when it had happened.

Mr. Scars blinked, remembering what Deadhead had said. He'd seemed like he meant it, but surely there were exceptions, there was no way he'd be okay with him trying to speak with him in the middle of the night, out of the blue. Well, he was fairly certain it was the middle of the night in the human world, but the realm that the Collective lived in didn't really have a proper flow of time, it was weird. Not that anyone really cared or payed attention to it at all though.

He figured that trying to contact Deadhead was worth a try, besides, what was the worst that could happen? He stood up, wiping his eyes before teleporting to the outside of the other member's room. He kept as quiet as he could as he thought about the best way to go about this.

After a few moments a familiar voice was heard from behind the door. "Who's there?"

Mr. Scars froze, apparently Deadhead wasn't asleep, and he could hear him from inside the room. Great. "It's me." He replied with the most stable voice he could.

There were a few seconds of silence before he got a response. "Scars? What is it you need?" The annoyance that had previously been in his voice was gone.

"Well.." He hesitated for a moment. "I was kind of hoping that we could talk, if you aren't busy or anything."

"Of course not, come in."

Mr. Scars was relieved that Deadhead was so willing. He teleported into the room rather than actually opening the door and sat on the bed next to his friend.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" Deadhead asked.

"Well, you know that problem I have with nightmares?"

*****  
Mr. Scars told the other member all he could remember about his dream. He got a bit shaken up at some point as he was doing this, but Deadhead comforted him the best he could. After he was finished he felt a good bit better than he'd expected. "Thanks for listening." He said, relaxing a bit.

"It's no problem, it's just what friends do."

"Yeah, I guess."

The two lapsed into silence after that. It wasn't an awkward silence, but a companionable one. They just sat there for a while, enjoying each others company.

Mr. Scars actually felt like he'd be able to get back to sleep, which almost never happened soon after one of his worse nightmares. He didn't feel like going back to his room though, he was quite content to just stay where he was.

Deadhead glanced over at him. "You can stay here the rest of the night if you like." He offered, as if he could read the other member's mind.

"Really?"

Deadhead answered with a nod.

"Sure, thanks." There wasn't much room on the bed, and he didn't feel like moving, so he just stayed as he was, leaning against his friend. After a while he started to doze off.

Deadhead moved Scars' head at one point so it was resting against his chest instead of his shoulder. Then he lightly kissed the top of his head before leaning back against the headboard of his bed and closing his eyes.

Mr. Scars had been a bit surprised at the action, but he was too close to being asleep to really care. He just smiled slightly and wrapped his arms around Deadhead, nuzzling his chest.


	4. Restlessness(Firebrand X HABIT)

HABIT awoke, annoyed, from his sleep. Of course when he decided he actually wanted to let Evan's body rest for a night, that was the night he had trouble sleeping. He glanced around the room, noticing that he'd thrown the covers off with his tossing and turning. Whatever, it's too god damn hot tonight anyway. He was going to cross his arms in frustration, before realizing that his arms were already tightly wrapped around a pillow, which he was holding against his chest. He raised an eyebrow as he put it back under his head, where it belonged. Why was it like that? Most people hugged things like that when they had nightmares, but HABIT wasn't 'most people', he was a murderous, arguably psychopathic demon, nightmares were basically wet dreams for him.

He sighed, then tried to think of any other reason he'd be having trouble sleeping.

Sometimes if he went too long without a victim he'd have problems with multiple things, including but not limited to sleeping, it was kind of like an instinctual thing...No, his last kill was only the previous night, so there was no way it could be that.

Nothing was going on in his life that made it harder to sleep or anything, things had been pretty quiet for a while. The last relevant thing to happen had actually been Noah visiting.

He found himself smiling at the memory. That had been a fun night. Noah had seemed pretty scared of him, much like basically every other human he met, although he was slightly more entertaining since he actually got kind of feisty at some points. He always liked when his victims tried to fight him, it just made it that much more rewarding when they died.

Noah wasn't really a victim though, not of HABIT anyways, Slender did have a metaphorical eye on him though. In fact, he'd actually visited, or rather been forced to visit, HABIT to get help with that whole thing. Of course, the demon didn't just help him for no reason, that'd be stupid, he'd actually helped because of a request from a member of the Collective, Firebrand to be exact. At first he was going to refuse, since he didn't really give too much of a shit, but as it turns out, he kind of had to in a way. There was this weird time loop thing that Noah was stuck in, involving the Collective and himself from the future and stuff. It was really complicated, and HABIT didn't want the details. Basically, long story short, if he didn't help Noah like Firebrand asked it would make a bunch more time loops, glitches in time, and possibly a few paradoxes, so he just agreed to do what he had to so the universe wouldn't shatter or some shit, that and it was also actually pretty fun to mess with Noah.

During his visit Noah had actually somehow slipped into the candleverse, a dimension that HABIT sometimes liked to reside in. Not many humans could simply walk into the candleverse, so he just assumed Noah had found a tear between the two dimensions, most likely due to the whole time shit he was caught up in.

Speaking of time shit, Noah's future self, Firebrand, was interesting. Well, about as interesting as someone associated with Stick-In-The-Mud could be. Like the rest of the Collective, he had a shadow-like appearance. He also had a really weird looking smile. When he wanted to it seemed like he could make himself look slightly less like a shadow and show a few more of his human characteristics. Only a few though, he still always looked like a shadowy fuck.

Firebrand also acted kinda different than Noah. They were technically the same person though, so you'd expect them to act the same. Where Noah was all stressed and jumpy, Firebrand at least acted calm most of the time, or tried to. Where Noah got angry at everything, it took a bit more to anger Firebrand. They both said 'fuck' a lot though, that was one thing they had in common.

HABIT furrowed his brow. Why was he even thinking about this? Wasn't he supposed to be sleeping, or at least doing something productive? Surely there were millions of better things he could be doing rather than thinking about the human equivalent of burned toast. He could be finding a new victim, perhaps someone else Evan loved. He could actually be working on a video for the channel. He could be doing anything else, yet he was lying in his bed thinking about some burned up time lord.

The worst part was, part of him didn't feel like stopping. That was kind of odd. Usually when he started doing something stupid some part of his mind would tell him to stop, and he would, knowing that he was being stupid. This time however, although he knew it was pointless to keep thinking about the former Collective member, his mind kept wandering to the topic.

Maybe he wanted to kill Firebrand? Usually when he wanted someone dead the person, or thing, would be on his mind until he killed them...No, that wasn't it, he didn't really feel any violent tendencies when he thought of Firebrand. Well, no more than when he thought of any other living thing. So then why was he wasting his time thinking about someone that he'd probably never see again? It didn't make sense.

Why was he getting so worked up about this anyway? He was just a slightly interesting being that happened to come to HABIT for help, he probably kept thinking about him cause he's more interesting than the usual shit he sees every day.

Satisfied enough with the conclusion he'd come to, he rolled back over and attempted to get back to sleep, trying to block out thoughts from his mind. After a few minutes of tossing and turning he was asleep again.

******

He felt an arm wrapped around his waist when he woke up. He smiled and moved closer to the other figure in his bed.

"You know, I can tell that you're awake." The person, Firebrand, whispered in his ear.

HABIT chuckled slightly. "Yeah, whatever."

"Last night was great." Firebrand said before softly pecking HABIT'S neck.

"Sure was." He responded, feeling Evan's body blush at the memory. He rolled over so he was facing the shadowy entity, nuzzling into his chest.

Before he could get too comfortable Firebrand tilted his head up and pressed their lips together.

HABIT gladly kissed back, letting one of his hands rest on Firebrand's chest.

After a few seconds Firebrand pulled away, smirking. "Why don't we repeat last night?" He offered, trailing one of his hands down the demon's hips.

"Sounds great to me."

******  
When HABIT woke up the next morning he was clutching his pillow again. He was going to question this, but decided not to, it probably wasn't important anyway. He didn't remember what his dream had been about, just that it'd been really great, great enough for him to leave a few bite marks in his pillow as well. What was the dream about though? He wanted to know, for multiple reasons, all personal. After a few seconds of thought he decided it didn't matter, and that he'd probably remember eventually some other time.

He sat up, stretching, then sighing. "I need to fucking shower." He said to himself before standing up, a small smile on his face. "I hope I didn't make too much noise last night, I'd hate for Vinny to ask questions."


	5. Rude(HABIT X Noah)

Noah stretched slightly before getting out of bed. As usual, he didn't get any sleep, he hardly ever got any proper sleep nowadays. Of course, he didn't really care too much, sleep deprivation was better than possible death, at least in his book. He sighed as he walked out of his bedroom towards the kitchen. As he entered the desired room, he couldn't help but feel like something was off. He wasn't sure what it was, but something just didn't feel right. He tried shrugging it off, it wasn't like anything really felt 'right' nowadays anyway.

He walked to a certain part of the kitchen, he was going to brew some coffee for himself, before noticing that his coffee maker was already about halfway full. He looked at it for a few moments. He didn't remember it being like that before he went to bed last night. There was also an empty cup next to it, just sitting there, untouched. That hadn't been there either. He touched the machine, determining that it was still really warm, and had been made fairly recently, within the last hour or so.

He raised an eyebrow. What the hell was this? Had someone seriously done this? If so, why?

"You gonna pour yourself some or just waste your time staring?"

Noah tensed up at the sound of a voice behind him and turned around. What he saw wasn't what he expected. Standing behind him, leaning against one of the counters, was someone he never thought he'd have to bother with again. It was none other than HABIT. How could he tell it was HABIT and not Evan? Well, why, and how, the hell would Evan get in his house?

HABIT sighed and shook his head, setting down his own mug and walking over. "You're a bit slow, huh?" He said, pouring Noah's cup for him. He attempted to hand it to him, but after a few tries of Noah not taking it, he just sat it next to him. He looked back at the human, an expectant look on his face. "Well, what do you say?"

Noah blinked, not sure how to respond. How was someone supposed to respond to this sort of situation? He tried to think of what the demon would want to hear, not too fond of the thought of being murdered, but nothing came to mind. Thankfully, HABIT was patient, and waited for the few minutes it took for him to speak. "How did you get in my house?" He asked.

He knew it was probably a stupid question, he'd probably gotten in the same way, or at least a similar way, as he'd gotten Noah in his house. Still, that was really the only thing that he could think to say.

Apparently it wasn't what he wanted to hear, because HABIT let out an annoyed sigh. "You're really rude, you know that?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

HABIT continued speaking as if Noah hadn't said anything. "If I wake up this early and make you a nice hot cup of coffee, you're supposed to say 'thank you', none of this 'how did you get in my house' shit."

Noah was torn between anger and fear of what would happen if he argued. As usual, anger won. "Excuse you, you fucking broke into my house, I have every right to at least ask that."

HABIT crossed his arms. "Everyone asks that, it gets annoying after a while. Honestly, if I wanted you to know, I'd just tell you."

"Fine then, can I at least ask why you're in my house, then?"

"Is it so wrong to drop by for a friendly visit?" HABIT almost sounded as if he were actually trying to sound innocent. Almost.

"When you're breaking and entering to do so, then yes, it is."

"Look, I'm not gonna argue with you, since I know how damn stubborn you are." HABIT said, picking up Noah's cup of coffee and forcing it into his hands. "Now just drink this shit, and be grateful that I bothered making it for you."

"How am I supposed to know that you didn't poison it?"

"You sure ask a lot of fuckin' questions, huh?"

Noah's only response was an annoyed stare.

HABIT rolled his eyes. "You really think I'd poison you?"

"Yes." Noah answered, immediately.

"That's one of the most boring, uncreative ways anyone can kill a person, why would I bother with it?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past you." Noah said, setting his cup back down.

HABIT looked like he was genuinely starting to get frustrated at this point, he forced Noah to hold the mug again, this time splashing some of the still hot contents onto his shirt.

Noah winced slightly at the feeling of hot coffee hitting his skin, but didn't have much more of a reaction. "You're really not gonna give up until I drink this, are you?"

"That's right, and I still expect a thanks."

Noah figured that going along with what he wanted was better than resisting and facing something worse than whatever the entity had planned already. If he got poisoned, so be it, that was better than slow, brutal torture. He sat down in his living room with his coffee, HABIT doing the same, sitting next to him. He took longer than usual to drink his, still cautious of the possibility of poisoning.

HABIT tried to converse as they did this, but Noah wasn't in much of a mood to talk, so he mostly just responded with a 'yes' or 'no', occasionally saying things that could almost be considered complete sentences. He considered asking why the demon had bothered doing this, but he was sure that would just annoy him even more.

After a few minutes they finished, Noah, pleasantly surprised that he seemed to have not been poisoned, was going to set his cup down, but HABIT took it back to the kitchen and left it in the sink. When he got back he sat back down.

Noah figured this was as good a time as any to finish this up, doing the final thing that had been requested of him. "Thanks for doing this and everything, I appreciate it and all, but let's not do it again anytime soon."

Thankfully, the demon seemed satisfied with this, even though it was clearly half-assed. A smile spread across his face. "No, thank you." Before Noah could respond, HABIT grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed their lips together, resting his unoccupied hand on the human's chest.

Noah was too shocked to do anything about it. It was over within seconds, and HABIT was gone faster than he could question it, saying something along the lines of "Kay, bye" before slamming Noah's door shut.

"That didn't just fucking happen." Noah said to himself after he'd recovered enough to speak. Of course, it did happen. He knew it did. After the disbelief wore off, he was no doubt going to question this quite a bit.


	6. Pills(Tim X Brian)

The hooded man, better known under the nickname 'Hoodie', wandered silently through Tim's house. He would stop and look through cabinets and such if he passed them. He was, of course, looking for any pills that Tim might have. It was only partially so he could use them himself, since the effects of the Operator had been getting worse for him, and the pills seemed to help with that. Still, this wasn't the primary reason for his actions.

His main reason was so that Tim couldn't use them. This was because they were the things that prevented the other male from going into his masked state. It wasn't like he was really close with Tim's masked personality, they'd only worked together once or twice, but he still would rather have the masked man around than Tim.

Tim also didn't get anything done when he was in his masked state. Not to mention he woke up with no memory of what happened, so watching the aftereffects of that was pretty interesting. He'd actually recorded a bit of it, but never posted it anywhere.

He made his way to the house's bathroom, checking the cabinet above the sink. As expected, there were nothing but empty bottles. He quietly sighed as he closed them. He knew that Tim had to have some pills somewhere, he just didn't know where.

Maybe Tim had used them all? That wouldn't make sense, since he'd bought more only a few days ago, but it was the only possibility he could think of. Though he wasn't planning on leaving until he was sure. There was still one place he hadn't checked yet, and that was the bedroom.

He made his way to the doorway of Tim's room, just looking inside for a moment. He actually looked like he was sleeping soundly for once. That was good, it made his job easier.

He stepped inside and looked around, still trying to keep quiet, just in case. That was kind of hard though, since he was getting increasingly frustrated with the lack of pills he was finding.

After searching every corner of the room, he sighed loudly. Whatever, he could try again another time. For now, he just wanted to leave before Tim woke up.

He was getting ready to exit the room, but looked back, then sighed yet again, rolling his eyes behind his mask. He walked back, pulled the covers over Tim, then left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, not as happy w/ this chapter as I am with the others, but it's whatever


	7. Bottle Messages(Hoodserver)

Brian, actually Hoody at this point in time, had just returned to his...well, it wasn't really a house, more like the abandoned building he'd been staying in since he'd left his house. He hadn't left by choice of course, at least not completely. He'd needed to leave, to avoid the thing that had been following him, whatever it was. He actually moved to a different abandoned location every month or so to try and keep it off of his trail. It worked alright, kind of. He still had to deal with the symptoms of having been around it, but that was better than being caught.

Speaking of symptoms, he knew how to deal with those. All he needed was a certain type of pill, which he could get from an old friend of his, and the worst of the symptoms would go away. This would be great, except Tim was really greedy with his pills, which meant he was running very low. He actually had used up his last bottle the other day, and he could certainly feel the symptoms coming back. 

He tried, and failed, to hold back a coughing fit as he took a seat on the beat up mattress he'd been using as a bed. He really needed to ransack Tim's house again sometime soon, at least more thoroughly than he'd been as of late. He'd been being careful, not messing too many things in the house up, so he wouldn't get caught. He'd been being too careful. Who cared if Tim knew that someone had been in his house, he recorded a good bit of his time in there anyway, it wasn't as if he didn't already know.

He sighed and lied down. Tomorrow. He'd go back tomorrow night. He didn't have much choice, it was either that or let the symptoms get worse. 

After deciding this, he took off his mask. Despite popular belief, he didn't sleep with it on. How was he supposed to? He wouldn't have been able to breathe if he did.

He stopped that train of thought and turned to his side, closing his eyes, then quickly opening them again. He noticed there was something next to his 'bed'. He hadn't noticed it with his mask on, since it obstructed his vision and such, but now he could see it. He picked it up, giving it a confused look. It was a very new looking pill bottle, hadn't even been opened yet. How did that get there? He didn't use pharmacies.

He decided to investigate this, first looking at the label. As expected, this was the type he needed. The name of who it was prescribed to was scribbled out, but he could tell it wasn't Tim, the name was too long.

Deciding to investigate more, he made the decision to open it. He wasn't going to take any, of course. What idiot took meds from some stranger? He just wanted to look at the pills, make sure they were genuine.

The first thing he saw after opening it wasn't a bunch of pills, but some paper. After taking it out, he saw it was a note. Of course, he read it, which wasn't an easy task since whoever wrote it had no concept of what spaces are.

"I couldn't help but notice you ran out, how unfortunate. Luckily I used my vessel to pick up some more. You're welcome." There was a symbol that looked kind of like two eyes overlapping after the message.

There was nothing about this Hoody understood. He also didn't trust it. Whoever gave him these probably laced them with poison or something. He put the cap back on the bottle and threw it to the other end of the room.

\--------  
Observer couldn't help but chuckle at Brian's actions. He wanted the Operator to effect him even more? Fine, it wasn't Observer's problem.

Still, he continued watching, crossing his arms. He felt slightly insulted. He'd gone through the trouble of getting a nice shiny new pill bottle for him, and what did he do? He threw it away, just like that.

Whatever, it didn't matter. He was the one fucking himself over.

\--------  
When Hoody woke up, what he didn't expect was the bottle to be next to him again, with what looked like a new note.

He sighed. It was way too early for this. Probably. He stopped caring about time a while ago.

Sitting up, he picked up the bottle. Not like he had anything else going on.

"No need to be rude about it, if you didn't want them you could've just said so." Of course, it had that same symbol after it.

He would have addressed the feeling of being watched that he got after reading it, but he'd gotten used to the feeling a long time ago, so it didn't really register.

\--------  
This pattern continued for a while. He'd find a new note in the bottle every time he woke up, or came back from going out. Whoever was writing them was very persistent, and also needed major grammar lessons.

Sometimes the notes were just greetings, other times they were poking fun at his symptoms, and seemingly urging him to take the pills.

He never did, of course. He wasn't stupid. 

He wasn't sure why he kept reading the notes. Something to keep him entertained he supposed. Sometimes he considered replying, but other than the fact he had nothing to write with, that didn't seem like a very good use of his time.

He didn't start taking the notes seriously until they started talking about parts of his life outside the building. Things like "Tim won't have anything" on a day when he'd planned to go try to find some pills that wouldn't probably kill him, and "Someone's looking pretty desperate" the morning after a really bad coughing fit, which he'd had while wandering around the city.

There was also "Maybe you aren't as smart as I thought", which was the latest one.

He crumpled up the paper and grabbed the bottle. "Fine." He muttered to himself. "I'll take the damn pills, just leave me alone."

After doing so, he could've sworn he saw a shadow in the corner of his room, which certainly wasn't his. When he looked it disappeared though, so he decided it didn't matter.

\--------  
Surprisingly, the pills worked. He felt much better. He leaned against his wall, looking out the broken window at the moon, wondering why he hadn't taken the pills sooner.

"Told you."

He jumped at the voice and snapped his head in the direction it came from. There was what looked like a smiling shadow with glasses sitting in the corner staring at him. 

It rolled its eyes, probably, it was hard to see through the glasses. "Don't look so surprised."

Hoody blinked. "You're the one whose been giving me the notes?"

The shadow nodded. "That's correct."

He raised an eyebrow at the figure. He'd assumed that whatever had been pestering him wasn't human, but he hadn't expected this. He wasn't sure what he expected honestly. "Is there a reason why, other than to annoy me?"

The shadow chuckled. "Well, it's because I like you." It responded. "You're interesting, and a lot smarter than all the others."

"I am?" He knew he was smarter, that was obvious, but he didn't quite buy the whole 'interesting' part.

"Of course." It answered. " I mean, you've got the lost cameraman, who visits abandoned places at night and generally has no clue what's going on." He counted on his fingers each person he mentioned. "Then you have Sideburns, who's befriended the cameraman and is helping him, and has even less knowledge of what's going on than his ally."

The shadow leaned back a bit. "Then there's Mister Tacky Glasses, who enjoys killing people and causing chaos for no reason."

Hoody couldn't help but smile slightly at the description of Alex. It was painfully accurate.

"But then there's you, who actually plans ahead, and knows what he's doing." The shadow's smile widened. "If it weren't for your reliance on those pills, you'd be way ahead of the game."

"As if I'm not already." He said, mostly to himself.

"That's where I come in." It continued, ignoring what he'd said. "I can get you those whenever they're needed, it's actually really easy, and so then all you'll have to worry about is avoiding that creature following you."

It did seem that way, but if there was one thing Hoody had learned in this experience, it was that if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. "And I should trust you, why?"

More laughter from the entity. "Well, you shouldn't." It shrugged. "But, I'm all you've got, without me, you'd probably be dead now from that thing."

That was a fairly good point, he wouldn't have lasted much longer without those pills. "What's the catch?"

"The catch?" It tilted its head. "Just let me watch you and such, and deal with my bullshit, and just don't piss me off."

"So, like a normal alliance?" He asked.

"Well yeah." It answered as if it were obvious. "Unless you want me to make your life hell too."

Hoody gave him an annoyed look, and since his mask was off, it was seen.

"That's what I thought." It stood up, stretching slightly, before teleporting over to him.

He tried backing up a bit, before realizing he was leaning against a wall. 

"I'm Observer by the way." It finally introduced itself, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Later." It teleported away, probably somewhere out of the building.

He stood there for a few seconds, before shaking his head. "Ignoring that." He muttered, blushing slightly.


	8. Invasive Firebrand(Firebrand X Noah)

At the current moment in time, Firebrand was in his house, standing in his bedroom, right next to his bed. That probably sounds like a strangely normal thing for him to be doing with his time, considering what else he does in his spare time. It would be normal, even by human standards, if it weren't for the fact that there was two of him in the room right now. One of which, his past self, who was sleeping and the other, who was watching.

Yeah, Firebrand was watching himself sleep. No matter what way you try to word it, that's what was going on here. He was literally just standing there, watching himself.

Why? He wanted to say that it was for his own protection, to make sure he was there to get rid of anything that tried to sneak into Noah's room, and that was partially true. That wasn't the only reason though. He was also doing this because he enjoyed it. He had no problem admitting it, either.

Well, he had at first. When he'd first started doing it part of him thought it might be a problem, or that it made him that much more similar to the Collective members. After thinking for a bit though, he realized that was stupid. So what if the Collective also happened to like watching people sleep? This didn't hurt anyone. Sure, it might be considered a somewhat unhealthy habit, considering he did this instead of getting any sleep himself, but he was a literal rogue god, he probably didn't even need sleep. Plus, this actually did help him protect Noah.

That, and watching someone sleep was surprisingly calming. You could just focus on their even breathing and the occasional shift in their expression as they lied there as you sat there and thought. At least, that was how Firebrand saw it.

Now, if only Noah was this calm when he were awake. Firebrand cared about his past self, he really did, honestly probably more than he should have, but seeing him go through so much needless struggle because of his aggressiveness and such was really annoying.

It didn't really matter what he thought though. Eventually, Noah would calm down and smarten up. Firebrand knew this because he'd lived it. No matter what he did or thought, Noah would eventually become him, which would result in whatever shifts in personality the former Collective member had experienced, among other things.

The thought of that made Firebrand sigh. He really didn't want that to happen. If it were up to him, this whole thing would have been over by now, and both versions of himself would still be able to exist.

Of course, it wasn't up to him. It never really was. If his knowledge of time travel was correct, which it better have been after everything he'd done, then he wouldn't be able to change anything. Whatever he did was already supposed to happen, and would just contribute to the end result, which was his own existence as whatever he was now.

He pushed that thought out of his mind. There was no point in dwelling on that now. If he really had a problem with that knowledge, he shouldn't have come back in the first place.

He tried to think of something more positive, which made him focus on the person in front of him. He smiled at Noah's sleeping form. He honestly did care about his past self, he wouldn't have come back if he didn't. Although, since he'd actually been spending time with and around him that wasn't just saving his ass, he'd begun to appreciate the person he had been a lot more. This might have just been him stroking his own ego, but he actually used to be a pretty cool guy. Not that he wasn't still cool and all, of course.

Though, with all the time he'd spent around Noah, he'd began to adapt an admittedly strange mindset. He'd actually started regarding himself and Noah as separate people. Of course he knew that genetically, they were the same person, but he meant personality wise. Honestly, he could probably count the amount of similarities they had on his damn fingers. He wasn't going to though, because that would be a waste of time, and if there was one thing he needed to not waste, it was that.

Of course he said this as he wasn't doing anything productive, but that didn't matter. This actually had the potential to be productive, if something happened. Or at least useful in some way. It wasn't like he was just using those reasons as an excuse to watch himself sleep, this was totally a very productive use of his time. Definitely.

He couldn't help but laugh at himself a little. Okay so he may have been wasting his time. There wasn't anything else he could really do though, so it was all good.

Well okay, there was one other thing he could be doing, but that thing happened to be asleep right now.

He snorted. He amused himself sometimes.

He decided to stop making terrible jokes at no one in particular. It was a good decision.

Instead he sat down on Noah's bed, realizing that he'd been standing for a while. From here he could kind of feel Noah's body heat a little. He could also see his expression much better from this close.

He looked troubled, more so than usual that is. Must have been another nightmare. There wasn't really anything Firebrand could do about that. That wasn't going to stop him from trying though.

He teleported to the other side of the bed, because he was too lazy to bother walking. After doing this, he crawled under the covers and wrapped his arms around Noah. This may have also been an excuse to get some sleep himself.

He nuzzled his face into the back of Noah's neck. He had a feeling he still wasn't going to get any sleep. Oh well. Either way, he felt like he should start doing this more often.


	9. Black(Observer X Firebrand)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention that I like using quadrants, whoops

Firebrand and Observer hated each other. That's really all there was to say on the matter. They really did hate each other, so much.

Although that didn't explain why they always seemed to run into each other. They always put in extra effort to avoid each other, yet they always somehow ended up meeting again. Neither of them understood it, but neither of them could stand it.

It was so stupid too. Back in the collective realm they'd always end up in the same area of the boardwalk, or they'd conveniently run into each other in the middle of the forest. Even when they tried their hardest to stay in their own lanes, they'd end up running into each other again. It honestly drove both of them up the fucking wall.

Even after Firebrand left the Collective it kept happening. It was getting really annoying. What force of god damn nature made this keep happening? It didn't make any sense. Even if it did make any sense, neither of them were happy with it.

The worst part was that they'd always run into each other at the most inconvenient of times too.

Observer would be on his way to Noah's place and then suddenly, there would be Firebrand, right on the other side of the street.

Firebrand would be watching Noah's house, to make sure nothing tried to get in when suddenly, he'd see Observer standing outside the window.

In hindsight, maybe it was because they always frequented the same place every night. Of course, both blinded by anger at seeing each other for at least the seventh time that week, didn't consider that as a possibility.

At the current moment in time, they, of course, were both watching Noah's house, with very different intentions of course. Also of course, they were looking into the same window, so they weren't even all that far apart.

Observer glared over at the other entity and whispered. "Go away."

Firebrand, also glaring, whispered back. "No, this is my house, fuck off."

Observer clenched his teeth. "This is my victim, how about you fuck off?"

"That is literally me in there, you fuck off."

Observer sighed, this was getting them nowhere. "If you don't go away, he's going to notice us."

"Why should I care?" Firebrand asked, tilting his head slightly. "I'm on his side."

"You should care because if he notices us, then I'll have no reason to hide and free reign to do whatever I want to him."

Firebrand rolled his eyes. "Like you could do much." He crossed his arms. "He needs to stay alive and you know it."

Observer balled his hands into fists. He really hated Firebrand's sass, especially when he was right at the same time. He opened his mouth to counter, but was interrupted before he had a chance.

"And don't say that you could take him again, because with me here, that's not going to happen."

Observer didn't notice his tone raise from a whisper to a normal speaking voice. "What exactly are you gonna do to stop me?" He turned to face Firebrand. "We have the exact same powers and weaknesses."

The sass kept coming. "While that's true in theory, not only am I a lot smarter than you, but now I know exactly what you're gonna try to do."

Observer suddenly remembered what Interception had felt like. It had been a while since he'd been this genuinely angry. The worst part was that Firebrand was right. As much as it pained him to admit it, if he was nearly as smart as the other, then he wouldn't have been dumb enough to make his plans so obvious. He wished he could say something back, but what was there for him to say? Firebrand had him cornered. There was nothing he could do to dig himself out of this hole.

Wait a second. He smirked. Yes there was. "Who cares, we both know what's going to happen to him in the end anyway." He smiled wider. "He's just going to become you, it's not like you're actually helping him at all by doing any of this, and you know that."

The look that crossed Firebrand's face after that remark was something, to say the least. He took a step closer, most likely without really realizing it. "You wanna repeat that?" It was clear by the tone of his voice that he didn't have anything to say to that.

Observer suddenly felt very cocky. He had to hold back his laughter. "Gladly." His arms crossed. "Everything you're doing is useless because Noah is just going to-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence before getting punched in the nose.

Firebrand's reflexes had been lightning quick, he hadn't even really thought about what he'd been doing, honestly. He didn't regret it though.

Observer could feel blood dripping down his face. He blinked. It took him a moment to register exactly what had happened. Then he chuckled. "Wow, that actually hurt a little bit, didn't know you had it in you."

Firebrand was honestly livid. "Shut up." He wrapped his hands around Observer's neck, pinning him against the side of Noah's house. He knew that trying to kill the other was useless, since he already knew he couldn't change the past, but fuck if he wasn't gonna try anyway.

Observer laughed again, which sounded like a wheeze. This was too perfect. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Firebrand so pissed, and it was hilarious. He let him get a few seconds of strangling in, deciding to humor him for a moment, before kicking him in the shin.

This caused him to grit his teeth to avoid screaming in pain. This also caused him to let go and take a step back. "Fuck, what's your problem?"

Observer leaned against the house as he caught his breath, still wearing that shit-eating grin. "You, dumbass." Wasn't it obvious at this point? They were both each others problem.

Firebrand tried to calm down a bit. This was ridiculous. He was being stupid. Why had he gotten so angry in the first place? He already knew what Observer had pointed out, he'd known since before he decided to go back. Anything he did was just delaying the inevitable and he knew that.

Observer sure liked laughing, it seemed. "You know, Noah really doesn't change much when he becomes you." He said. "I mean, you're both still really stupid." At this point he was trying to provoke him.

And it was working. "That's really funny coming from you."

"At least I'm smart enough to not attempt changing the past." It seemed as if Observer was the sassy one now.

Firebrand growled under his breath, placing both of his palms on the house, on either side of Observer's head. "I said shut up, I'm not trying to change the past, you should know that by now."

Observer's smile widened. "You could've fooled me with that little tantrum a few seconds ago." He snorted. "Or your whole attitude when that subject is brought up, honestly."

Firebrand had to restrain himself from hitting him again. He really hated when Observer was right about stuff.

Observer looked past Firebrand, which wasn't an easy task considering how close they were. He couldn't help but notice the sun beginning to rise. He sighed quietly, soon people would be getting up and leaving their houses and that would mean they'd be seen by someone that wasn't Noah. He couldn't have that happening. He had to get back to the boardwalk. "Look, as much as I'd love to stand here arguing for the end of time, I can't stay."

There was a slight bit of disappointment mixed with the relief of knowing that Observer was gonna go away. Firebrand ignored it though.

Observer leaned closer, letting their lips brush ever so slightly. "Hate you." He said in a voice dripping with mock-sweetness, before teleporting away.


	10. Server Failed To Connect(Mr. Scars X Observer)

When Mr. Scars had first been assimilated into the Collective, he had been unsure of many things. What the hell was he even supposed to do in this place? How was he even able to still exist? Where exactly did he even fit in with all of this? Hell, he was even unsure about his current state of existence. Was he alive? Was he dead? Who the fuck knew.

 

Though there was one thing he was very certain of. He had been sure of it since the first moment he became a Collective member. He fucking hated Observer.

 

Other than Cursor, Observer was one of the first other members he had become aware of, and one of the first things that Scars had learned about him was that he was fucking awful. Annoying didn't even begin to describe it.

 

Of course, every member was terrible in one way or another, that seemed to be a requirement or something, but Observer was on an entirely new level of horrendous. Nearly everything he did or said was so infuriating that it made Scars want to scream, or shoot himself, or both. Not to mention the way he stalked Scars' cousin was really disturbing. It wasn't right.

 

Well, nothing that happened was really 'right' anymore, but that just seemed more not right than everything else. Observer took delight in the suffering of everyone, but especially in that of Noah. After noticing how much it bothered the member who happened to be related to his victim, he made a point of exaggerating the severity of what he did when speaking about it, and making a show of trying to decide how he'd torment Noah next.

 

At first Scars wouldn't voice his anger over these things and would seethe in peace. That didn't last long though. He could only take so much bullshit before he decided to retaliate. At first this retaliation was purely verbal. He'd tell Observer to shut the fuck up, the other member of course wouldn't, and they'd get into a shouting match that lasted until one of them got bored or tired enough to leave. After a while it became almost routine. Of course, routine never lasted very long if you were in their current situation. Eventually their squabbles escalated to violence.

 

Scars was the one who initiated it. He hadn't even really though about it when he'd done it, he'd just been so pissed. Observer had been taunting him, as per usual. Something about how fucked his cousin was, something about Scars being pathetic, a jab at his bloodline. Before any more could be said, Scars' fist made contact with Observer's face. He'd heard something snap, it hadn't been any of the other member's bones, but rather the glasses he'd been wearing. They'd been broken. That explained the pain in the slightly taller member's knuckles.

 

Observer looked shocked at first but then laughed, because of course he did. He wiped away the small amount of blood trickling from his nose and continued cackling like this was one of the funniest things that had ever happened to him. Right before the other member is ready to hit him again, he speaks. "Wow holy shit, I really didn't think you had that in you." He wiped a tear from his eye. He hadn't even been laughing that hard but of course he was going to play this up as much as possible.

 

He debating hitting Observer again, but decided against it. Most of his anger was already gone, replaced with simple annoyance. Instead he just glared, not bothering to respond.

 

"You could've got me a bit better honestly, but that wasn't bad." The impressed tone in Observer's voice may have been real, or it might not have been. Scars didn't care enough to wonder which. He really didn't want to waste any more energy listening to this, so he removed himself from the situation. He would deal with whatever consequences this might cause later.

 

When later came, he wasn't sure if that was a good decision or not. Observer had needed to tape his glasses back together and they were slightly crooked. That was somewhat amusing, until the other entity decided to open his mouth. Was it just him or was Observer being more obnoxious than usual?

 

What kind of question was that, of course he was. It was obvious that he was just trying to get on Scars' nerves, since he apparently didn't have anything better to do with his time.

 

Observer was acting overly friendly, while still fitting some insults in here and there. At one point he put an arm around the other entity's shoulders, getting much too close for Scars to be remotely comfortable. He tensed up, biting back a growl as best he could, ending up sighing instead. This was enough motivation for the other to continue the harassment.

 

"So, what are you even doing here?" Observer asked, far too casual. "How did we even end up in the same place?" Whether he meant the realm in general or just the specific area they were currently in was unclear. It didn't matter. This was aggravating. "It's almost like you wanted this." Observer pulled him closer, grinning as he did so.

 

Scars didn't think he could get more tense, but there he was. He did not appreciate physical contact, even from people he didn't particularly dislike, and he had been making an effort to keep the two of them as far apart as he could, despite Observer's efforts, and now the two of them were pressed together and he really hated this. He didn't respond to it though, he wasn't going to give the other the satisfaction. He clenched and unclenched his fists beside him, attempting to calm himself.

 

"Aw, what's wrong?" Observer faked obliviousness and concern. The hand on Scars' shoulder moved to brush through his hair. "You wanna talk about it?"

 

Scars forced out another sigh, willing himself to calm down. It didn't really work but there wasn't much else he could really do. "Leave me alone." He spoke through clenched teeth. Was that going to do anything to actually help him? No, of course not, but he felt like if he didn't say anything then he'd just end up screaming.

 

Observer snickered a bit before faking being offended. "You mean you don't wanna talk to me?" His tone of voice was the only thing that made it seem somewhat sincere, and even then the smile on his face gave it away. "I thought we were friends, man."

 

Mr. Scars promptly decided that he didn't care about whether it was what Observer wanted or not, he elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to make him be pushed away. "I said fuck off."

 

This only fazed Observer for a moment before he smirked. "Well technically you didn't say that, you told me to leave you alone first and then you flew off the handle."

 

"Shut the fuck up, why are you even still talking to me?" Scars was aware that he was most likely overreacting, but he currently didn't care. Ever since he had gotten here, which couldn't actually be measured in time because of how fucked this place was, Observer had been doing nothing but deliberately trying to piss him off and he didn't want to deal with it anymore.

 

Observer laughed a bit, amused by his outburst, before acting. "Relax, I didn't mean any harm." The hand that had been creeping back to the other member's shoulder was batted away, and shortly after he was shoved, hard enough to make him stumble back and need to stop himself from falling. "Yikes." He said, part of him wanting to let this go and actually leave the other alone for a bit. Though the other part of him was really curious as to what would happen if he didn't. "Struck a nerve there, huh?"

 

Scars looked like he was about ready to fucking kill something, and that was quite accurate to how he was feeling. How could one person be capable of being so irritating? It shouldn't have been possible, yet by some mistake in nature, Observer was here. He took a few moments to try to calm himself down and think rationally before responding this time. Reminding himself that anger was what the other wanted, and maybe if his anger didn't get any worse then this might possibly end, perhaps Observer would get bored and leave or something. Luckily for Scars, he'd practically been practicing not acting on negative emotions his whole life, so making himself appear calmer wasn't too difficult. "If you could maybe go the fuck away and leave me alone for even just one day, that would be really wonderful." His voice wasn't as even as he'd intended, but that was fine, he supposed. Of course, he couldn't have something somewhat nice happen to him.

 

Observer continued talking, making it clear that he wasn't finished. "I mean that would be great and all, but time technically can't be measured here like that, so how would I be meant to know when I've fucked off long enough for you to be satisfied?" Even though that sentence had just been meant to anger the other, it sounded somewhat genuine. The point was also somewhat valid, even though Scars hadn't meant what he'd said completely fucking literally.

 

At this point Scars was just thankful that he wasn't the type of person who teared up when he got angry, because he could only imagine how much more ammunition that would give the other. Although he could feel himself shaking, and if he hadn't been occupied at that moment he would've noted how fucking warm he was and how much his heart rate had picked up.

 

"Come on man, I really thought we had something going there, what are you so riled up about?" He almost looked genuinely insulted. "Are we not friends anymore?"

 

It didn't need to be said that they never had been friends in the first place. The closest he had ever been to being friends with this fucker was back when he was human, back when he was close with Kevin. The only reason that bothered crossing his mind then was because in that moment, Observer had actually gotten really close to sounding like him. Scars could almost hear his friends' voice as the other spoke. They were two completely different people though, and the fact that Observer was using this against him was actually insulting.

 

The act continued though. Observer even managed to wipe the smile off of his face long enough to look somewhat hurt. "Do you not like me anymore?" He wrung his hands together in faux nervousness. "Is it something I did?" And holy shit he was a surprisingly good actor.

 

Scars actually felt like he was going to have a mental break. He couldn't even manage to be surprised that Observer would sink to this level because of fucking course he would. If he hadn't already been nearly too angry to think, then the sound of almost-Kevin's voice would've made him feel some sort of grief. Now though, it served as the straw that broke the camel's back. His sharp glare went away, replaced with a completely blank look. He also wasn't tense anymore, in fact despite the circumstances he almost looked legitimately relaxed.

 

Observer opened his mouth to speak again, but before any works could get out a swift punch was delivered to his chest. He wheezed out the air that was left in his lungs before beginning to cough. He recovered just fast enough to block the next hit, which had been aimed at his throat. He grabbed Scars' other wrist before he could put it to any use. And then of course, as he was barely avoiding getting horribly beaten, he fucking laughed. "Wow, good one." He said, sounding out of breath from the near coughing fit from a few moments ago. "No, really, that- this is actually really impressive." His voice was a mixture of mockery and sincerity. "I mean, holy shit, I really didn't expect this from you."

 

If he hadn't been occupied, Scars would've rolled his eyes. Did the ever stop talking? Did he ever stop? Surely he must've been getting tired by now. Nobody could be terrible for this long without tiring themselves out. It seemed as if Observer was an exception, however. He just kept going, continued spilling almost real nearly compliments. His words weren't even being listened to at this point, they just sounded like annoying white noise in Scars' ears. He wanted to just make him shut up. He was at a loss, running on autopilot really. It took a bit of exertion, but he wretched his hands away from the other. As he did this, the words still kept coming. He clenched his fists, willing the other to just shut the fuck up. His voice was like sandpaper at this point and he just wanted it to stop. He wasn't even thinking as he grabbed Observer by the collar of his shirt and initiated the most intense hate-snog he'd ever been part of. He had actually managed to surprise himself. That was not what he'd wanted to do, although technically it had solved his problem. The other was quiet now, and Scars was surprisingly unfazed by the physical contact. He couldn't argue with the results.

 

Observer was shocked at first, although only for a moment. After it wore off, he fucking wrapped his arms around Scars' neck and began to kiss back as if this was a completely normal occurrence.

 

This was the exact opposite of how Scars had wanted this to go. And yet, he didn't stop it from progressing. At one point his hands found their way around the other member's neck, their current make out session had began to involve teeth.

 

Neither of them were sure just how long this lasted, but at some point Observer pushed himself away, grinning as he caught his breath. "You're actually a really good kisser." He complimented, a slight blush spread across his face. "Did you know that?"

 

Scars decided to ignore the question, licking the blood from his lip. He also made a point of avoiding eye contact.

 

Observer chuckled, continuing as if he wasn't even aware that he was being ignored. "Man, I'd really love to continue this, really." He glanced at his wrist as if there were a watch there and looked back up at the other. "But I actually had stuff planned for tonight." He actually sounded disappointed. "Another time though?" He didn't wait for an answer before vanishing, despite the tone his last sentence wasn't really much of a question.

 

Once he was alone, Scars began to comprehend what had just happened. He buried his face in his hands and groaned. He was going to have to deal with that again? Was the whole hate-love interaction going to become a thing? What the fuck did he just do? What the hell did he set into motion? He could almost hear the other member laughing as he stood there suffering.

 

He didn't even bother teleporting himself to somewhere more comfortable. He sat down where he was and began to contemplate every mistake he'd made in his life that had somehow lead up to this point, as well as pushing away any other thoughts about what had just transpired. He definitely blocked out any feelings of disappointment at Observer's absence, because no he did not enjoy what had happened and no he was not looking forward to next time. No matter what his subconscious wanted to tell him.


	11. Calm(Deadhead X Mr. Scars)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fucking gay. Barely any plot to this, I just wanted to write something with these two. Pretty much self indulgent trash, but I like it

Mr Scars was currently trudging up the stairs of the watchtower. Normally he'd just teleport up, but he was tired and didn't want to bother exerting the energy to do so. He dragged his feet as he walked. Really what he wanted to do at the moment was lie down and sleep forever, but unfortunately as a Collective member that wasn't really an option for him, as being bound to the Admin meant that the faceless being had power over whether you lived or died. It wasn't pleasant, but he supposed he could live with it. Not like he really had a choice right now anyway. It was better to just accept it rather than try to die regardless, Scars had learned that the hard way. He'd had to learn it many times actually before the lesson had been properly imprinted onto him. It hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience, sitting there bleeding out yet unable to die. Really, he wouldn't wish that on anyone, it was quite awful.

 

He pushed the thoughts out of his head as he reached the top of the tower. A part of him said to jump off, he pushed that away too. As nice as that sounded in theory, lying on the boardwalk with nearly all of his bones broken wouldn't be all that great. He looked around, and as expected, there was another member waiting for him, leaning on the railing of the tower. They approached each other, the more scarred of the two opting to lean against the railing as he did so.

 

"Hello, Scars." The other member, Deadhead, greeted.

 

"Yeah, hey." He didn't bother with formality, or really even politeness in general as he sighed in reply. There wasn't any point in it really, they'd spoken enough times to not need to be all formal with each other or whatever.

 

Luckily, Deadhead didn't seem bothered by this. "So, how was your day?"

 

Scars groaned. "Well, I want to be dead way more than normal, so I guess it was kinda bad."

 

If there had been anything but a skull there, the other member's face surely would've shown some sign of concern, probably. "What happened?" He asked. "Would you like to talk about it?" He looked like he wanted to make some sort of physical contact with his fellow member, but was holding back. It wasn't really in his body language, but more in his eyes.

 

Mr Scars sighed and touched foreheads with the other. Although he was somewhat annoyed, he was actually really grateful that Deadhead was as respectful with his boundaries as he was. He had met way too many people who couldn't seem to get the concept of personal space through their heads and this actually was a nice change of pace. "Yeah, sure." He muttered. "There really isn't much to say though."

 

"That's fine." Deadhead reassured. "I'd be more than happy to sit with you in silence if it helped." He wrapped his arms around the other entity, pulling him slightly closer.

 

Scars wanted to sigh again. He would never understand why Deadhead felt the need to say ridiculously sappy shit like that. The fact that he could tell the other was completely sincere about it made it even odder. He supposed he didn't mind it though, in a way it was nice. It was a somewhat pleasant change from the norm.

 

Before the two spoke any more, Deadhead took a seat, leaning against the railing. Scars sat in his lap, resting his head on the others shoulder. Normally, Scars would rather die than have even close to this much physical contact with someone, but with Deadhead he didn't really mind it for whatever reason, it was strangely comfortable honestly. They had always sat together like this while they spoke. How this came to be, neither of them were quite sure, but it worked so neither of them questioned it.

 

"So, what exactly is bothering you?" Deadhead questioned.

 

Scars shrugged weakly. "I don't know? I just feel like shit, do I need a reason?"

 

"Of course not." The other assured. "Although without a specific reasoning for your feelings, it is somewhat harder to help fix them."

 

The scarred entity stayed silent for a few moments. "Well, I guess I have a few reasons to feel shit, but.." He trailed off.

 

"You know, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." The other member reminded him.

 

Scars didn't bother responding to this. If he hadn't wanted to talk about it at all, he wouldn't have come. Although admittedly, he hadn't exactly looked forward to opening up about his feelings. He knew he wasn't by any means obligated to speak about them, but he felt like if he didn't then he'd be wasting Deadhead's time, and probably his own as well. He thought for a little while before speaking again. "I mean, I guess I just hate having to still be alive." He admitted. This wasn't anything new, they both knew this, although it was the first time he'd said it aloud to anyone other than himself.

 

Deadhead nodded slightly, prompting Scars to continue.

 

"I just-- It's so fucking exhausting and annoying and being dead just seems like it would be so much better." He felt himself getting more aggravated as he spoke. Talking about it was forcing him to think about it as well, and apparently this was a pretty sore subject for him. "And you know, having to be around the other Collective members really doesn't help, they're all just so-" He stopped for a second to gather his thoughts, letting out a noise of frustration. "They're all either annoying, legitimately horrible people, or both and every second I'm around them I feel like I want to blow my fucking brains out."

 

The other member made a quiet noise of agreement. For the most part, this was something they both could agree on.

 

"I-I just don't wanna have to deal with any of this." Normally, someone admitting something of this nature would probably get somewhat emotional. Scars however was just getting angry. "I just wanna be cold and dead and rotting in the fucking ground without having to put up with any of this stupid shit." He could actually feel himself shaking with anger now, which surprised him. He really hadn't been aware of just how upset he was about this. "I even got to be dead for like an entire week or something but then I had to be brought back for this stupid fucking cult and I hate this so much, why couldn't I have just stayed dead?" He actually had to catch his breath from how much he'd been talking, his breathing just slightly more raspy than normal.

 

One of Deadhead's hands found its way into Scars' hair. He ran his fingers through the others ponytail in an attempt to calm him. "I am familiar with this feeling." He admitted. "I'm sure every member here who was once human has dealt with it before."

 

"Well when does it go away?" Scars asked. "It's there literally all the time, how do I get it to stop?"

 

"I can't give a straight answer to that question." He said, sounding disappointed. "It's different for everyone." He began to explain. "Some people just need to not think about it, and others need to contemplate on it for a while and learn to accept it, and for others it eventually fades away naturally."

 

Scars meant to groan in frustration, but it ended up sounding more like a whine. He hated this. I mean sure, he probably deserved this on some level, but that didn't mean he was happy about it at all. He buried his face in Deadhead's shoulder, he was done speaking, he didn't really have the energy to say any more even if he wanted to. He really just felt like sleeping now, maybe when he woke up he'd feel less terrible. It didn't seem like he would actually be able to sleep anytime soon though, as he could still feel the effects of his anger. This was hell.

 

Deadhead seemed to take the hint, he didn't probe any more and he fell silent. He felt as if he should try to help more though. His friend was still clearly very distressed and it didn't seem right to just stop here. Luckily, he knew ways to comfort people that didn't require speech. Well, he probably did. This method had worked on Scars before, but that had been when he was just mildly upset, and this seemed a few notches above that. Still, it was worth a try.

 

He ran one hand up and down the other member's back, as the other gently combed through Scars' hair. He even removed the hair tie so he could more comfortably get to all of it.

 

The other entity tensed up at first, he hadn't been expecting this. He didn't exactly dislike it, he supposed, a little warning would've been nice though.

 

Deadhead then began whispering. He tangled his hands in the other member's hair and whispered sentences in German.

 

Scars didn't understand a word of it, yet it was strangely relaxing. The soft muttering in his ear coupled with the gentle hands actually did a good job of calming him down. Of course, he still wasn't happy with his current situation, but he felt better? He actually felt kind of nice? He knew this slightly positive change in mood was temporary, but he didn't really care. He readjusted himself, wrapping his arms around the back of Deadhead's neck and resting his head on the entity's chest.

 

Eventually the hands stopped. Deadhead however did continue the murmuring, until he was sure the other was sleeping. He wished he was capable of smiling. He'd never actually seen Scars look this peaceful and content. It was nice, he believed that the other entity deserved it. He brushed some hair off of Scars' face. He felt somewhat accomplished. He hoped that when his friend awoke, he'd feel a bit better. He held Scars closer to him and shut his own eyes. He knew full well that he most likely wouldn't get any sleep, but he was comfortable like this.


	12. Confession(Kevin X Milo)

It was around four in the morning. Kevin was trying to get to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. Usually he didn't have any trouble sleeping, but for some reason tonight he was. He just didn't feel comfortable, something didn't feel right and he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Something just felt...off. He felt uneasy, he didn't like this. Nothing bad had happened that day or anything, so he really had no clue what was up. He'd been trying to think of what could've been wrong, since he'd accepted the fact that he wasn't getting to sleep. Nothing came to mind. Today had actually been a pretty good day, and the days before it hadn't been bad. Kevin was truly clueless.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud ringing. He was startled at first, before realizing that it had been coming from his phone. He couldn't help but wonder who the fuck was calling him at this time of night as he fished the phone out of his pocket. He read the name on the screen. 

Asher ♥

Oh. It was Milo. Kevin felt vaguely relieved, but worried as well. He was happy to be contacted by Milo, of course, but he also couldn't think of a single reason the other man would call him at this time that wasn't something horrible.

 

Pushing away his worries, he answered, greeting the other with a calm voice. "Hey, Asher."

 

"H-Hey Kevin." Milo responded quietly. He sounded nervous, maybe even scared? His breathing was also faster than usual, which added to the whole vaguely terrified aura he was letting off.

 

Kevin's worries returned full force. "Milo, are you alright?" He'd never heard this tone of voice from his friend before. He'd spoken to Milo when he was scared before, many times, but this was something else entirely. It was very concerning.

 

"That's not important." Milo's voice was shaky, he clearly wasn't alright.

 

"Yes it is, I'm worried about--" Kevin couldn't finish his sentence before he was interrupted.

 

"No." Milo's voice sounded more forceful now. "That's not what I called for, that doesn't matter."

 

Alright, it seemed as if Milo was pretty sure about this. He, like pretty much everyone in his family, was quite stubborn, so Kevin could tell that he wasn't going to give this up. Whatever this was. He didn't want help, but he had called for a reason. "Well, what did you call for then?"

 

The other man was silent for a good few seconds, the only thing that could be heard was his breathing. "I..." He swallowed, hesitating. His breathing picked up in speed.

 

Kevin was patient with him, waiting anxiously. He was sitting up now, on the edge of his bed. The possibilities of what the other was going to say ran through his mind.

 

Milo inhaled deeply before attempting to speak again. "I-I love you." He mumbled, hardly loud enough to be heard. "I love you, Kevin." His voice broke as he started crying. "I love you so fucking much."

 

Kevin didn't say anything for a few moments, processing the words. At first he considered the possibility that Milo had meant that he loved him as a friend. That thought was extinguished pretty quickly. If he had meant that in a friend way, he wouldn't have been so scared to say it. If it had been just a friendly thing then why would he be fucking crying? No, this was clearly a romantic confession.

 

A small smile spread across Kevin's face. He had liked Milo for quite a while, although he didn't say anything. They were best friends, and if he had confessed and Milo didn't feel the same way then that would have fucked up their entire relationship, and he hadn't been willing to risk that. He wasn't sure if he would've called what he felt love, at least he hadn't been before. Now though, he was convinced. "I love you too." He responded with relative ease.

 

Milo started speaking before promptly cutting himself off. "Wait, what?"

 

"I said that I love you too." He repeated. "I, Kevin Haas, am in love you, Milo Asher." He reiterated, making sure he was one hundred percent understood.

 

Milo was quiet for a few more seconds before he could be heard sobbing. He was laughing as well. He muttered a quiet 'oh my god' as he continued weeping. "Kevin, you don't understand-" He took a moment to try to steady his voice. "You seriously don't understand how happy I am to hear you say that."

 

Kevin felt himself tearing up as well. "Well, I'm glad that you're happy." He truly meant this on a deep level. Milo was very rarely actually happy, and hearing him like this was amazing. He was sure that he'd never actually heard his friend- boyfriend? Whatever, he was sure that he'd never heard Milo sound this genuinely happy before and it was making him emotional.

 

Milo took a few deep breaths, calming himself and trying to stop his crying. "You, uh-- You're not just saying that to spare my feelings or some shit, right?"

 

"What- No, of course not." Kevin responded immediately.

 

"Okay, I didn't think so, just had to be sure." He sighed, it was clear from the tone of his voice that he was smiling and relieved.

 

"I can assure you that when I say that I love you, I fucking mean it."

 

Milo chuckled slightly before sighing again, it wasn't a happy sigh this time though. "Well, I-I don't have much more time, and that's really all I called you to say."

 

"Alright, good night then I guess." Kevin wiped his eyes, still grinning.

 

"Yeah.." Milo trailed off. "Tell Noah I love him too, okay?"

 

Kevin was confused by that. Couldn't Milo just tell him himself? He was going to actually ask this, but before he could Milo abruptly ended the call.

 

That was...weird, to say the least. Kevin shrugged it off though, Milo was just a weird guy. That was probably one of the reasons he liked him so much.

 

Kevin got to sleep easily after that, smiling and thinking over the conversation he'd just had.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Kevin got another phone call, it was from Milo's mother this time. She let him know that Milo had killed himself the previous night. He had overdosed on the medicine he'd been prescribed for his depression. Suddenly the last bits of last night's conversation made sense. The whole thing made a lot more sense.

 

Kevin felt himself break down, his heart shattering into millions of pieces. "No." He muttered to himself as tears began to fall. He covered his mouth with one hand to muffle his sobs. "No- No, it's not fair." His shoulders were shaking from how hard he was crying. "It's not fair, I fucking loved him."

 

Mary sighed, little to no emotion was in her voice. "I know." After this she hung up, leaving Kevin alone to grieve.


	13. Love Letters(Firebrand X Noah)

It started with a fortune cookie underneath his pillow. He'd found it when he woke up one morning. Calling the time he had woken up 'morning' was actually stretching it a bit, since it had really been around three am, but that was beside the point. When Noah had found it he'd sighed, he didn't even have to look at it to get annoyed by it. He thought they'd gone through this shit already. He thought they had been through this bullshit before and were done. Apparently not.

 

He was seriously tempted to just throw it out, he really didn't want to go through the whole fortune cookie thing again. Then again, nothing all that interesting had been happening as of late, and although this was annoying, it was something. After a bit of debate, he decided that he'd rather deal with a few ominous cookies than just wait for something to happen. He decided to indulge Firebrand a bit. He hoped this one didn't say anything too unsettling though. As much as he tried to brush them off, truthfully, a good few of the fortunes really got to him.

 

He stopped thinking about it and just opened the damn thing. He ended up throwing the cookie itself away, he really didn't care for fortune cookies, before reading the fortune.

 

What he read certainly hadn't been what he expected, that was for damn sure. His face flushed a bit as he read over the words a few more times, making sure he wasn't just seeing things. After a few moments, he came to the conclusion that he indeed hadn't been seeing things, and it said exactly what he thought it did.

 

What did it say exactly? Well, it was different than all the others he'd received, in that it didn't actually say anything all that weird or creepy. Actually, that was up for debate, but whatever. The message on the small slip of paper was "Hey cutie, have a nice day!" with a couple hearts after it.

 

Noah wasn't sure if he should be flattered or concerned. Part of him wished that he actually had gotten one of the annoying, vague and creepy messages. Of course, he supposed that he shouldn't be so flustered over this. It really wasn't that big of a deal, especially considering the fact that he and Firebrand had fucked before. More than once actually. That had been to help him though, they had a reason for that. This was just odd.

 

And yet, he didn't completely dislike it. He actually felt a bit of warmth in his chest at the compliment. This was the first bit of positive interaction he'd had in quite a while and honestly he kind of liked it. It was nice, in a way. A bit weird considering it was coming from himself, but not necessarily bad.

 

He had a feeling Firebrand didn't really mean it and it was just meant to serve as a form of encouragement. Or as an attempt to boost his mood a bit? Maybe both, whatever. It didn't matter, as Noah didn't really care too much either way. Although he supposed that if his future self really meant what the fortune said then he might have to rethink his feelings toward him. That could wait until later though, he didn't even know if this was genuine.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later came, specifically a few days later. Noah hadn't completely forgot about what had happened, but he hadn't thought about it in a while. He'd been trying to get things done, and by 'get things done' he meant keep himself occupied. He'd really just been trying to do whatever he could to fight away boredom, since boredom meant being alone with his thoughts, which was something he didn't want since there were a lot of things he didn't particularly want to think about. Sure, he could have chosen to actually do something productive, but anything he could do that might be considered productive was probably something that the Collective wanted him to do, and he didn't want to do what they wanted him to.

 

So, he was just doing what he could to keep his mind focused on something other than his numerous problems. Normally drinking would solve this, but he didn't have any alcohol left and he didn't really want to go out and get some. He didn't really want to leave his house at all, honestly.

 

He was at his computer, not really doing anything specific. Watching things, looking through a few different websites, just trying to keep himself entertained. He supposed he was doing a semi-okay job, he wasn't completely bored so that was something. He wasn't really paying much attention when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He immediately started focusing again as he looked in the direction he saw it in.

 

He had to stop himself from sighing when he saw the fortune cookie next to his computer. When did that get there? He was sure it hadn't been there when he'd first sat down. If he weren't used to this sort of thing by now, or rather worse things, then he might have pondered on this a bit. Since he was used to it though, he just grabbed it and briefly debated on whether he wanted to open it.

 

This debate didn't take long. He was bored and this would provide a distraction, if only a small one. He hoped this wasn't one of the ominous ones, although if it was he'd live. He could always add it to this ongoing list of things he was trying not to think about.

 

After opening and reading it he concluded that no, it wasn't one of the ominous ones, but it was similar to the last one he got. "You're doing great, I'm proud of you!" It read, with a heart of course.

 

This, like the last one, made Noah blush. Not as much, but it was still there. He was mostly puzzled as to what Firebrand could be proud of him for, he hadn't been doing anything. Still, the praise was nice nonetheless, even if it hadn't really been properly earned. Hell, it managed to bring a small smile to his face, and that was definitely something. He supposed that if this became a regular thing then he could get used to it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

A while passed after that. As suspected, things kept being fairly uneventful. Noah didn't mind this too much, he'd rather deal with occasional boredom than almost die.

 

As time passed he started finding the cookies more and more often. He decided that he definitely preferred these over the ones that said vague, creepy shit. He'd actually started saving the fortunes, he kept them next to his bed. At first he'd been a bit unsure of how to feel about them, but the more he found the more used to them he got, and the more used to them he was the more he started to actually like them. Sometimes when he was having particularly bad days he'd reread some of them and they'd make him feel a bit better. They were overall pretty nice.

 

He was fairly, okay actually completely, sure that finding these fortunes had caused him to start having legitimate feelings for Firebrand. If he hadn't been past the point of caring, he might stop to think about the fact that this was himself and be a bit weirded out by that fact, but really he probably couldn't care about that if he tried at this point.

 

He didn't have to wonder about whether the feelings were mutual or not either, because some of the fortunes confirmed that they were. A good few of the compliments that were on some of them were only things you'd say to someone you were interested in. A few of them even fucking said 'i love you' on them. You couldn't really argue with that.

 

Noah wasn't sure if he'd go as far as to say that he loved Firebrand, but he definitely liked him quite a lot. How could he not after all the work his future self was putting into just making him feel nice. He could have been putting his effort into something actually useful or important, but instead he was trying to make his past self feel happier, and that was honestly greatly appreciated.

 

It had been a few days since he'd had found any fortunes though. It wasn't due to a lack of trying, he'd been looking around for them in what he considered the usual places for them to be. Maybe he wasn't searching hard enough? There was also the possibility that Firebrand had stopped, which would be understandable, he probably had other things to do. Noah hoped he hadn't though, not yet at least. He was really enjoying this thing they had going on, more than he'd enjoyed anything in a while, and he wanted it to last just a bit longer.

 

After looking around for probably the third time that day though, he concluded that it was probably over for now. He'd checked everywhere, he was sure of it, and had found nothing. He knew this would happen eventually and that they'd be back to business as usual, but he was still disappointed about it.

 

He sighed and took a seat on his bed, deciding that now was as good a time as any to get some sleep. Yeah, it was the middle of the day, but who cares? He went to lie down but when he slid his hand under his pillow he swore he felt something.

 

He sat straight back up and grabbed it, and as expected, it was another fortune cookie. Really, what else could it have been? He couldn't help but be a bit aggravated, both at Firebrand and himself. Himself because how the fuck had he not thought to check under the pillow? Firebrand because seriously, the fucking pillow again?

 

He pushed these negative feelings away, focusing on the positive ones that came now that he had found another one. He pondered for a moment as he stared at it, wondering what it would say.

 

Although as impatient as he was, he stopped thinking and just opened it rather quickly. Once he cracked open the cookie though, what was there most definitely wasn't what he'd expected.

 

In his hands was a ring, a diamond ring to be exact. The diamond on it wasn't all that big, if it were then it wouldn't have fit in the cookie, not that Noah cared. Other than a few crumbs that were still on it, it looked brand new. It also looked extremely expensive.

 

Noah's eyes widened. He felt it with his thumb as he processed what exactly he was looking at. As he was doing this, he noticed a fortune that was attached to it. On the fortune there were the words "Marry me?" with a heart afterwards of course, that seemed to be a thing that was on all of them.

 

He felt tears start to gather at the corner of his eyes as he got a bit emotional. Multiple things were running through his mind at once, although his most prominent thought was just "What the fuck?"

 

He didn't mean the question as a negative thing, he was just honestly very shocked and perplexed. What even was this? Really, on all the things he'd expected in his entire lifetime, this was probably the last.

 

"Well?" A voice questioned from in front of him. His own voice.

 

He looked up to see Firebrand standing not too far away. He looked away again for a moment to try to find the right words. "I-I'm not saying no, but I don't think we can?" He was a bit choked up so his voice didn't sound all that even. "I mean, not only are we the same person, but you're not even a human."

 

Firebrand chuckled quietly. "Well, of course we can't actually get married." He said as if it were obvious, which it kind of was. "But it's the thought that counts, right?"

 

Noah blinked. That made sense, a lot more sense than the thought of them legitimately getting married. A small smile crept onto his face after a moment of thought. "Well, then I guess I have to say yes."

 

Firebrand, suddenly a lot closer, tilted Noah's head upward so that they were facing each other. "That's what I was hoping for." He said quietly before gently pressing their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third part of the Go Fuck Yourself trilogy. This is pretty fuckin gay shit, but I think it turned out pretty decent


	14. Unlikely Deal(Firebrand X Deadhead)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no reason for this ship to exist, but pitch ships are the shit, so this happened

Firebrand was currently in the Collective realm. Now normally he would go to pretty great lengths to avoid having to come here, but he didn't really have a choice. He needed somewhere to stay and all the places he usually went with were unavailable.

 

Okay, they weren't really, but he didn't feel like going to any of them. He didn't want to stay at Noah's place because his past self had expressed some annoyance at being watched by him. Firebrand had decided to give him some space, not wanting to put any strain on their alliance.

 

HABIT's place was out of the question. While it would likely be readily available, he just didn't want to go there. HABIT was annoying and troublesome, and the whole killing and torturing people thing definitely didn't help. Really, Firebrand didn't want to be around the demon any more than he had to, and right now he technically didn't have to so he wasn't going to.

 

Those were really the only two places he frequented. He supposed there were probably other options, but for whatever fucking reason, creeping around in a realm that could easily get him killed appealed to him more. Honestly, part of him wanted to snoop around a bit. He figured that if he spied on some of the members of the Collective that maybe he'd pick up some useful information that he could use against them. That wasn't his main goal though, and he actually wasn't going to actively seek out someone to watch. That would be stupid and dangerous, which were two things he usually tried not to be. His main concern was not getting caught. Getting caught by a member would likely result in the Admin being alerted, which, as has been previously stated, could easily result in his death.

 

So right now he was walking next to the boardwalk. Next to it because walking directly on it would make noise, at least more noise than walking on the ground and because he felt safer walking along a predetermined path, less chance of getting lost that way. If it weren't for the fact that he was trying to stick to the path, he'd be going through the forest, using the trees as cover. That was actually probably a smarter idea, but he'd already started doing this and he didn't feel like stopping. Was that stubborn and probably dumb? Yeah. He didn't mind too much though, he was sure he'd be fine. He was good at sneaking around and staying hidden, and what was the chance that a Collective member would happen to be around the same area of the boardwalk as him?

 

That was probably jinxing it. Good thing he didn't believe in that shit.

 

After a while of walking he let himself relax a bit and think. He didn't let his guard down as he did this, of course. He wasn't that stupid. He just felt like he had to keep his mind occupied by something, if he didn't than the overwhelming silence of this place would get to him. He needed something to focus on other than the sound of his own footsteps.

 

He wasn't thinking about anything too specific. He went over a few of his plans, the ones involving his past self and the loop. He had quite a few plans, although a good few of them were backup plans in case the first things he tried ended up failing. He was pretty prepared, he'd thought ahead as much as he could, thought over many possibilities and made some sort of plan for each one. He was determined to win this. He'd went back for a reason and he was going to do what he came back to do.

 

He decided to let his mind go to a different topic. He didn't want to get too worked up while he was in this realm, since anger lead to carelessness, which would lead to getting caught. He decided to instead think of...

 

Wow, he actually didn't have much else to think about. He supposed he could think about how terrible the Collective realm was, but that topic was kind of old news at this point. He didn't really find any interest in pointing out the flaws of this place anymore. He could also think about his past life as Noah, but he didn't really want to. That would just make him upset, cause him to miss his old life, and he didn't want that right now. He could also focus on the feeling of being watched he was getting right now.

 

Wait. He stopped. That hadn't been there when he'd first got here. Sure, this realm just generally had a bad aura about it, but this feeling was something else, something more specific. He swore he could feel eyes on him. He looked around him, trying to find the source. Of course, it could have been nothing, just paranoia, but there was no way he was going to take any chances. He turned to look behind him, looking along the boardwalk and looking in between the trees around him. He was less than successful, finding nothing. The feeling was stronger now though, he knew that someone was watching him.

 

Before he had any time to look around some more, he heard a voice behind him. "You know you're not supposed to be here, right?"

 

He didn't recognize this voice, although it was clearly a Collective member, because obviously who else would it be? He tensed up, clearing the fear from his face as best he could, replacing it with what he hoped was an angry and threatening look, before turning around and facing this fucker.

 

Standing in front of him, arms crossed, was indeed a member he had never interacted with before. The Black Knight, better known as Deadhead.

 

He really only knew who this was because he had been a member before, and during his time as one he'd learned the names of each of the others. He might also know because he'd been told back when he was Noah, he wasn't really sure.

 

Either way, he wasn't going to let this guy think that he was intimidated. He put on an act of nonchalance as he spoke. "Yeah, no shit." He crossed his arms as well. "That little detail is kind of hard to forget." Realistically, it probably would have been smarter to try and get out of there as soon as he was confronted, but his previous train of thought had already made him a bit mad, so he wasn't exactly thinking rationally.

 

"Then why are you here?" If his face were visible, Deadhead would have probably been raising one of his eyebrows. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

 

Firebrand opened his mouth to retaliate but nothing came out. He couldn't just say why he'd came, that would be practically asking to get fucking killed. He couldn't just not say anything though. Well actually he could, and probably should, but he wasn't going to. He wasn't gonna just let this guy talk down to him.

 

Before he had the chance to say anything though, Deadhead spoke again. "You know, you're really not that smart." The look in his eyes could almost be described as pity, some sort of condescending type of pity. "The reason you came doesn't matter, you know how dangerous this place is for you and you chose to come anyway."

 

The tone of his voice made it abundantly clear how superior he thought he was and that made Firebrand seethe. "Shut the fuck up, I already know all of this." He snapped. He realized too late that his rage only gave the other entity more ammunition. It also occurred to him that he'd just admitted to not being smart. He had to hold back a groan, he suddenly really regretted coming here.

 

Deadhead seemed to find this humorous. He didn't quite laugh but he made a small noise of amusement. "I thought that you were at least better in the emotional department than your past self, but it seems like you two are equally stupid on pretty much every level."

 

Firebrand had to hold himself back from assaulting Deadhead. Who was this fucker to try to talk about his past self? He didn't know shit about his past self. Hell, he barely even knew Firebrand. He apparently knew him well enough to push his buttons really well though. This, of course, only served to anger him more. "Fuck off." Was all he could manage to counter with, stepping closer to the other.

 

Deadhead stood his ground, continuing to look down on Firebrand despite being a decent few inches shorter. "You know, I was originally going to alert the Keeper of your presence, honestly that's probably what you deserve, but messing with you is way more fun."

 

At this point, Firebrand would almost prefer dealing with the Admin in all honesty. He didn't say anything in return, just glaring. He didn't want the Collective member to know just how much this was getting to him, although it was probably obvious. He also supposed that if he didn't speak then there would be less for Deadhead to use against him.

 

Apparently that assumption was wrong. "You're not even going to thank me?" The skull faced entity tilted his head slightly. "That's rude, even for you." The way he said the word 'you' made him sound legitimately disgusted, as if the former member alone was something that should be regarded as revolting.

 

Firebrand couldn't stay silent after that, he couldn't stay nonviolent either. He balled his fists and swung one. "Shut the fuck-" Before he could make contact, or even finish his sentence, his wrist was gripped tightly, stopping him in his tracks. Before he had time to try putting his other fist to good use, that wrist was grabbed too.

 

"You're very predictable, you know that?" Deadhead almost sounded bored as he said this. "Easy to read too."

 

Firebrand instinctively tried to pull away, which just caused his wrists to be squeezed tighter. Painfully tight. He winced, forcing himself to stay still. He scowled, trying to hide any signs of pain from his expression. "Yeah, well you're an asshole."

 

That got a chuckle out of the other. "As if I haven't heard that one a thousand times before." He pressed Firebrand's arms together, so that he could hold both wrists in one hand. With his now free hand he cupped the other entity's face. "A for effort though, I suppose."

 

Firebrand squirmed uncomfortably, trying to pull away again. "Don't fucking touch me."

 

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." Despite his words, the tone of his voice wasn't reassuring. It was close, although it was clearly meant to mock him rather than comfort him. "Although, I suppose I can see why you'd think I am."

 

"I don't care, get the fuck off of me." He was trying to back away, ignoring the pain that was now traveling up his arms and hands.

 

Surprisingly, Deadhead complied. "Alright." He let go of Firebrand rather abruptly, watching in amusement as he fell over.

 

Firebrand just sat there for a while, rubbing his wrists that he was sure were going to bruise. He considered trying to assault Deadhead again, but if his previous attempt was anything to go by, that wasn't a very good idea.

 

After about a minute Deadhead spoke again. "You alright?" It was hard to tell whether the concern in his voice was sincere or taunting. Maybe it was both.

 

Firebrand stared up at him. "You're a piece of shit." He decided not to give him the satisfaction of answering.

 

"I did exactly what you asked me to do, I don't see the issue here." He almost sounded legitimately confused.

 

"That fucking hurt." It still hurt, actually.

 

In an instant he was dead serious. "And if you had run into anyone else then you'd be dead." He reached down, grabbing Firebrand by his shoulders and lifting him so they were both standing. "So stop complaining." He didn't remove his hands from the others shoulders when he was done.

 

Firebrand didn't try to pull away this time, staring at the ground. Deadhead had a good point, if he had run into anyone else here, with the exception of his cousin, then he would most likely have gotten killed.

 

"Here's a bit of advice." It wasn't an offer, but rather a statement. "Maybe if you don't want to get hurt, don't come to the Collective realm in the first place."

 

That was another good point, an obvious one really. He would expect himself to get annoyed at how the other entity was stating the obvious, especially since he was talking to Firebrand like he wasn't any smarter than a child. Instead of anger though, he felt a bit of embarrassment. He already knew what was being told to him, so why wasn't he acting like it? He should have expected something like this as the best case scenario of coming here, so why had he entered expecting anything less? He kept his gaze firmly planted on the ground, refusing to look at the other.

 

Deadhead moved one hand up to Firebrand's face, tilting it upward, forcing them to look at each other. "Don't beat yourself up about it." For the first time since they'd encountered he didn't sound like he was trying to demean Firebrand in some way. "I understand what it's like, wanting to achieve victory something so badly that you're willing to ignore danger and consequences to win."

 

Firebrand blinked at him, still refusing to make eye contact but letting himself look in the entity's general direction. He guessed this made him feel better, although it confused him more than anything. Why was Deadhead trying to make him feel better? It was glaringly obvious at this point that they both hated each other, so why did he care?

 

"Just don't act so fucking surprised when you get hurt after doing something stupid." Ah, there it was. Back to the insults it was, then.

 

Firebrand rolled his eyes. "I'll try to keep that in mind." Any shame that he might have felt before was gone now, so he supposed Deadhead's reassurance had worked. His anger had also melted away and was now just annoyance.

 

"You better, because it's quite relevant to what I'm about to offer you." His voice and body language really didn't match. The hand that was on the former member's face moved up to his hair. The tone of his voice was commanding, but not quite angry.

 

Unfazed by the physical contact, he looked at Deadhead curiously. "I can assure you that I don't want anything you might wanna offer me."

 

"Well, too bad, you're listening to this offer anyway." As if Firebrand could leave with Deadhead holding him like he was. "Let's say you can come here whenever you wish, and as long as you find me while you're here then I'll make sure you're not caught, how does that sound?"

 

That sounded too good to be true, so it most likely was. "Why? What's the catch?" If it weren't for the hand in his hair then he would've tilted his head. "I mean, you obviously don't like me, and I don't like you, so why bother?"

 

"I hate you, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual." Deadhead confirmed. "Although, I find you quite amusing, as well as infuriating, and I can tell those feelings are at least partially mutual as well."

 

Well, he wasn't wrong. Infuriating was definitely a word that Firebrand would use to describe Deadhead. Amusing though, not so much.

 

"I think we could have a nice rivalry going on, if we both put the effort in."

 

Calling it a rivalry seemed kind of dumb, but Firebrand supposed that was the closest thing to what it was. "Alright, but why?" He definitely wasn't saying yes, but he was curious about Deadhead's motives.

 

The other entity pondered for a moment. "Well, not much happens in this realm, and having this to focus on would help keep boredom away, which would be very beneficial for both of us, I'm sure."

 

Firebrand did have issues with boredom, which was a given considering he didn't really do much of anything that wasn't related to the loop, and when things were going slow that didn't exactly give him much to do.

 

"You don't have to say yes, of course." Deadhead assured him. "Although if you don't, then next time I see you here I will not hesitate to let the Keeper know you're here."

 

"Well gee, how can I say no to such a tantalizing offer?" Firebrand deadpanned. Truthfully, even without the threat attached he probably would have said yes. He didn't handle boredom well. Slow going also usually meant isolation, and that wasn't too fun. So although this would be annoying, possibly unbearably so, he supposed he preferred it over the alternative. That and the added bonus of being able to travel through this realm safely was legitimately tempting.

 

"I knew you wouldn't be able to refuse." Deadhead said teasingly, resting his forehead on Firebrand's.

 

The other entity sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're the fucking worst."


	15. You Suck Charlie(Kevin X Milo)

When he died, Mr Scars lost a lot of things. Most notably would be his chance at an actual, normal life, or just a life in general. He didn't really care about that too much though, he'd never really cared for the big picture of all this. He was more focused on the details, which is to say he missed the smaller things from his old life than the actual life itself.

He missed having a home, or rather just a house. The Collective realm not only was the last thing he'd call home, but it was also almost completely forest and boardwalk, he didn't technically have a roof over his head.

 

He missed having freedom. As a Collective member, he was basically a slave to the Admin. Essentially he was a puppet. He could technically still make his own choices, but he couldn't do anything that the Admin wouldn't allow, and the list of things Admin wouldn't allow was pretty much everything that was actually enjoyable to do.

 

He missed being able to communicate with people. He'd never been too big a fan of the whole communication and contact thing when he was alive, except with a certain few people, but after being in the realm for so long he really had started to miss it. To be fair, he could still communicate with people, other Collective members, but none of the other members were even close to pleasant to speak to, let alone be around. In fact, almost all of them were basically intolerable. There was his mother, who was painful to think about, let alone spend time with. There was Observer, who was sometimes even worse than Cursor. There were two Nazis, and considering his family history, trying to speak to them seemed like a pretty horrible idea. Then there was his grandfather, Persolus, who was a hermit, so even if he tried he wouldn't get anywhere.

 

Point is, he hadn't had really any interaction with anyone, let alone a positive one, in god knows how long and he was getting sick of it.

 

He also missed his cousin. Then again, that was a given. Noah, Firebrand, whatever, had been like a brother to him and he'd be seriously concerned if he didn't miss him.

 

Out of all the things he missed, those weren't even close to the top of the list though. Well, his cousin was pretty close to the top actually, but that was beside the point. The thing he missed the most was a person, but it wasn't anyone he was related to. The person he missed the most was actually Kevin, one of his best friends. Actually his best friend if you didn't count family members.

 

You'd think that he'd miss his one good family member more than a friend, but you'd be wrong. He could actually see his cousin sometimes, not often but it did happen. Kevin though, there was no way for them to speak, or really even a way to see him in person. Hell, he couldn't even really see him at all. Theoretically he guessed he could do the age old Collective trick of just sneaking to Kevin's house and watching him, but that would be really creepy and he didn't want to do that. Going to his friend's house to actually speak to him was out of the question too. Both because that was one of the things Admin wouldn't allow him to do and he didn't want Kevin to see him like this. There were many reasons for this.

 

For one, he just generally didn't want his friend to see him in this state. He was pretty much a walking corpse and there was no reason Kevin should be subjected to that. There was also the fact that Kevin wasn't officially dragged into this whole mess yet, at least not badly enough for his life to be altered in any major ways. Sure, he was the Observer's vessel, but he wasn't aware of this. He wasn't aware of the Collective at all and he didn't know of the Admin either. The most he dealt with was waking up in places he didn't fall asleep at and having things in his house moved around, and these were just side effects of Observer not knowing how to take care of a vessel and didn't harm him at all. If Scars were to confront him, then he would most certainly be officially noticed by the Admin and would have to deal with the entire spectrum of shitty things that came with that. Scars didn't want that. Kevin deserved to live in peace, he deserved to be happy.

 

Still, Scars would sometimes think about what might happen if he could speak to his friend. He would think about different scenarios, some involved Kevin wandering around the boardwalk and them encountering each other, some had Scars escaping the Collective and meeting up with Kevin outside the realm. He knew none of them would ever happen, and that he was really just torturing himself by thinking of these things in the first place, but he couldn't really help it.

 

When he wasn't thinking of those scenarios, he would just think about Kevin in general. These thoughts more often than not would upset him, but he didn't care quite honestly. He'd rather upset himself than block the thoughts out. The thoughts, on some level, probably helped him. They also might have just been harming him, but he didn't care. Thinking about Kevin was the closest he would ever get to seeing him again and he was going to do it.

 

He normally sat atop the watchtower when having these thoughts, since that was the area of the realm where he was least likely to be disturbed.

 

He liked to think of some of his favorite memories involving Kevin, which was almost all of them. He remembered when they'd first met, which had been in middle school. Kevin hadn't exactly been his first friend, but he'd been the first friend that mattered. The first long lasting friend.

 

He remembered the first time Kevin had visited his house, which had been late high school. It had gone a lot better than he'd expected, his mom had been surprisingly fine with the whole situation, and had actually congratulated him for making a friend.

 

He remembered the last few interactions he'd had with Kevin, a few weeks before he'd died. They actually hadn't spoken much in that frame of time, Scars had known what was coming to him and had figured that minimizing the amount of interaction would also minimize the amount of pain his disappearance would cause Kevin. He regretted this now, of course, but it had seemed like the best course of action at the time. There were a lot of things he never got to say to his friend before he'd died. Things that he really wished he had said, things that Kevin deserved to know.

 

He never got to tell Kevin just how good of a friend he was. There had been many times where he'd been having an absolutely atrocious day, and spending a little time with Kevin had almost completely turned it around. The other always seemed to know just what to do and say to make Scars, Milo at the time, feel better. He never seemed to mind doing this either, in fact he'd seemed happy to help. Scars really wished he'd let Kevin know how much he appreciated him.

 

He never got to thank Kevin. His friend had always been willing to listen to his problems, always been willing to try to help. Even when it inconvenienced him he would still do what he could. He was one of the most selfless people Scars had known and he really deserved a thanks for that.

 

Most importantly, he'd never told his friend how he really felt. At some point in their late high school years he'd developed feelings for Kevin, but never acted on them. He had no reason to, he was perfectly happy with them having a strictly platonic relationship. They were great friends, and he hadn't wanted to jeopardize that. After while though the feelings grew stronger. He didn't realize it until very close to when he'd died, but he loved Kevin. Now that he'd been dead for a few years he was even more sure of this and every time he thought about it he really regretted not admitting these feelings to Kevin. Even if it might have fucked up their friendship, the other deserved to know didn't he? He did. He never would know though, because Scars hadn't been able to work up the courage to tell him before his death and it was too late now.

 

He liked to think that the feelings were reciprocated. He liked to think that if he hadn't missed his chance, then they might have been happy together for a little while.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not a day went by where Kevin didn't miss Milo. The other man had been one of his closest friends, maybe even the closest, and losing him had really hurt. It still did hurt. Kevin, of course, understood on some level why Milo had done it, but that didn't make it hurt any less. In fact, on some level that made it hurt worse. It made him feel like he hadn't done enough, like he hadn't been there for his friend.

 

He didn't like to dwell on that though. As much as he wished he could have done something to prevent Milo's death, it was too late now and thinking about what he could have done would just serve to make him feel worse. He tried to think positively. He thought about how Milo was in a better place now. He thought about the good memories he had of them together.

 

He had a lot of good memories of Milo. Although he probably hadn't thought so, Milo had been a really great person to be around, and because of this almost all the memories Kevin had of him were great.

 

He remembered when Milo had first introduced him to his cousin, Noah. He'd been so excited that day. He'd been really looking forward to Noah and Kevin meeting, as it had essentially been his two best friends meeting, and he'd been really happy when the two of them had ended up getting along. It had been really nice for Kevin to see, since that level of happiness had always been extremely rare for Milo.

 

He remembered when he'd first introduced Milo to his own family. It had gone incredibly well, Milo had actually stayed over that night. His parents had seemed to approve of the friendship and it had all around been a good time.

 

He remembered when he'd first started having feelings for Milo. It had been mid high school and he didn't really think much of it at the time. Their relationship had been perfect the way it was, and he'd had no problem putting the feelings aside so that it could continue this way. The feelings grew stronger at some point rather than going away, but he still managed to ignore them. Looking back, he really wished he hadn't.

 

He really wished he'd told Milo before he died. What effect this would have had on their friendship he didn't know, there was no way for him to know. They were always really close though, so he was sure that even if his admission would have had a negative effect, they would have stayed friends. Besides, Milo had deserved to know, hadn't he? Of course he had, but now he never would.

 

Kevin liked to think that on some level, Milo had known though. Not only because he didn't like dwelling on the negatives, but because Milo had always been pretty decent at reading people. He'd been smart. If he had wanted to, then he certainly would have been able to notice the feelings.

 

Kevin also liked to think that the feelings were mutual, at least a little bit. He definitely wouldn't go as far as to say that he thought Milo had loved him, but he liked thinking that there might have been a small crush at some point. It might have been because he actually thought it was plausible, or it might have been to make himself feel better. It was probably a little of both.

 

Point is, Kevin loved Milo, and he'd give just about anything to let him know that. There was no way he could do this though, so he had to make do with just keeping his friend in his memory. Even if he couldn't know that he had been loved, he was going to be remembered. The last thing he deserved was to be forgotten.


	16. Nasty(Mr. Scars X Observer)

In a fit of rage, Observer lunges, his hands tightening around Mr. Scars' throat. He's not sure exactly what he's so mad at, it isn't really one specific thing, it's a lot of things. Simply put, it's just Scars in general. He's so aggravating and annoying and just outright awful, Observer would give nearly anything just to get him to stop. Stop everything. That isn't to say that Observer wants Scars dead, not really, but he just doesn't want to be the one to put up with him, he's sick of the other member's shit, he needs a break. He knows he won't get one though, so the few moments of silence that this action will bring are the best he can hope for. He also knows that he's going to be put through hell once Scars pries him off, but at the moment he doesn't particularly care. It doesn't matter, in the moment, this seems very worth it.

There's just one issue though, it becomes clear after a few moments. Scars isn't fighting back. Sure, when the assault had started his hands had shot up to Server's, and he's gripping the entity's wrists tightly, but he's making no attempt to get away. It's not like he can't either, he's physically a lot stronger than Server, he logically should have no issue getting the other off him, it should be a piece of cake. And yet, he's doing nothing. He's not even trying.

Observer can feel the grip on his wrists tighten, and the loosen, as if Scars is debating on whether or not to fight back. He can feel the muscles in the other's throat tense and flex, he's struggling to breathe, trying but failing. Server doesn't understand why he's not fighting, in any other instance he would, in fact in any other given situation Scars would have Observer completely floored by now, he'd have wiped the floor with the other entity and then some. So, why hadn't he? Why is he choosing now to stop fighting? What is so different about now that renders him unwilling to fight?

As he's pondering over this, it occurs to Server that he could choke Scars out right now, nothing is stopping him. It would be easy, fast too. He pushes the thought away rather quickly though. He doesn't want Scars dead, and he doesn't want to seriously injure him. He isn't completely sure what he wants to do, really. He thought that he wanted to harm Scars, to take him down a peg, but that doesn't seem all that appealing anymore. It's probably because the anger is wearing off. What he was so enraged over a few moments ago suddenly seems almost dumb now. Not that he's completely cooled down, he's still annoyed, but he just isn't feeling the same amount of rage that he had been earlier.

It occurs to him that despite his second thoughts, his hands are still wrapped around Scars' throat. He should probably do something about that before Scars passes out or something.

He does do something about that. He loosens his grip and begins to pull away. He feels like he should explain himself. Flying off the handle and strangling someone isn't exactly something that one can wave off, it's the kind of thing that can really fuck up your relationships if you aren't good with damage control. It's the kind of thing that can land you in serious hot water.

Before he can even attempt to defend his actions, or really think of words to form, Scars acts first. He doesn't do anything big or drastic, really his actions are extremely subtle and if Server wasn't focused then he might not have noticed them, but what he does is definitely something that catches Observer's attention, and is most certainly noteworthy.

As Server is pulling away, Scars' hold on his wrists tightens again, and he tries to pull Observer back. Not in a forceful way or anything, just a small tug, but damn does Server notice it.

His plans of explaining himself quickly vanish, now he feels like an explanation is owed to him. Of course, he has a pretty good guess already, but he's not about to make assumptions, he wants confirmation. He gives Scars an accusatory look. The only thing he gets in response is a small, pitiful whimper. It's clear that the noise wasn't intentional, the look of embarrassment that crosses Scars' face says that much.

That's all the confirmation he needs. He puts on his signature shit eating grin and chuckles slightly. "Honestly, I feel like I should've expected this from you."

It seems like Scars isn't in the mood for conversation, he looks away and does his best to clear all emotion from his face. He's quite flushed though, so his efforts are kind of useless.

"You're kind of gross, you know that, right?" As he asks this, Observer runs a thumb along the slit is Scars' throat. The reaction this gets is probably more amusing to Server than it should be.

Scars fails to suppress a shiver, and he lets out another whimper, this one somehow more pathetic than the last.

Server doesn't even try to hold back his laughter. He can tell he's going to have a fun time with this newfound knowledge. As he pulls his hand away, he holds his smirk. "You know, this has been fun and all, real eye opening too, but I have shit to do."

The look of absolute desperation that crosses Scars' face, and the fucking whine that passes his lips. Honestly, Server has to try really hard not to lose his shit right there. Really, seeing the pleading look in the other's eyes, Server is quite tempted to indulge him, give him what he wants, but he actually wasn't kidding when he said he had shit to do. There are things that need to be done and he's the one who needs to do them, and he feels like if he actually did give in to this and give Scars what he wants, then he'd just be wasting time.

Of course, it would be easy to do what Scars wanted, and he knows that he'd be able to finish it up quickly, it likely wouldn't cause any conflicts with his schedule at all. Seeing how desperate Scars was though, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to not do this. The idea of leaving him all hot and bothered like this was just too funny.

"I'll see you later, and maybe if I feel like it we'll pick this up where we left off." With that, Server teleports away, leaving him to his own devices. He very much looks forward to the next time they speak, he knows it'll certainly be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally wasn't gonna add this here, but I kinda like it, so  
> More Pitch Rooks, I guess


	17. Perfection(HoodServer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written partially for a friend, and partially because I wanted to. Riddled with headcanons, especially compared to the amount in other chapters

Perfection. Everyone has a different meaning for the word. A lot of people think that it doesn't really exist, others do believe in it but believe that they just haven't found it yet. Some people believe that it does exist, and they also believe that they have found it.

Brian, or Hoody actually, fit into the third category of people. He believed wholeheartedly that he had found perfection. He'd found it in the form of another person, one that he considered amazing enough to be perfect. Technically- okay not technically, straight up, this person wasn't human. They, or he, was an entity known as The Observer.

At first when he and Observer had met, Hoody actually hadn't liked him. Like, not much at all. The first time they met hadn't exactly been too pleasant for him, it had been pretty jarring and kind of frightening, honestly. Of course, when encountering an otherworldly entity, there wasn't really much else one could expect. First impressions weren't really important anyway, it was the interactions after that which had solidified their relationship, and had made Hoody sure of Observer's greatness.

When they'd first met, Hoody had thought Observer was annoying, reckless and dumb. Now though, he couldn't believe how wrong he'd been. Observer was one of the most pleasant people to be around, not annoying at all, his general attitude just took some getting used to. He also wasn't reckless, though he might seem that way to outsiders, he was actually very good with planning, and he rarely did anything without thinking it through first. As for dumb, that was the farthest thing from the truth. Observer was probably the smartest being Hoody had ever met, to say the least. He was clever and brilliant, not to mention his sight.

Observer's sight was something to be admired for sure. It was certainly one of his most impressive qualities, even for an entity like him being it was amazing, and to a human such as Hoody it was absolutely astounding. Observer wasn't quite omniscient, but he could see a whole hell of a lot. He could see into different areas of the world, into different dimensions even, and describe what was happening in said places without skipping a beat, it was just like regular vision to him. And that was only one of the perks he had as an Eldritch being.

There were a number of other incredible qualities that came with Observer's race. One of which was space-time manipulation. Observer wasn't exactly a master at that one, he couldn't time travel and the most he could do with space manipulation was things like teleportation and a sort of levitation, as well as occasionally being able to manipulate the space around other people, rendering them immobile. Still, Hoody thought it was really damn impressive. Even if the entity were only capable of teleportation he'd find it impressive, quite honestly.

Another quality that supposedly could be considered a perk, at least Hoody thought it was one, was that Eldritch beings had their own sort of language. It didn't have a real name, at least not one that could be translated to English, so he and Observer had decided to call it Eldritch Horrortongue. How exactly it worked and sounded was hard to explain. It was mostly just rapid noises and sounds, a lot of which humans couldn't make, strung together. That was putting it simply, at least. Regardless of what exactly it was, Hoody loved it, he thought it sounded amazing. Observer didn't speak it often, but when he did Hoody tried his best to listen, attempting to pick up patterns in the sounds so he could better understand it. He wasn't making very good progress, but he was working on it.

Really, there wasn't a single thing about Observer that he didn't like in some way. Every trait the other had was impressive, spectacular even, and incredibly interesting. Just what Observer was in general was amazing, who he was on top of that was icing on top of the cake, really. Hoody felt extremely lucky to be able to have the entity in his life.

\-------------------------------------------------  
Observer also had reason to believe that he'd found perfection. How and where he'd found it was a surprise to him, considering what he considered perfect was a human. Well, of course it wasn't just a human, that was an insult to who it was. Most humans were terrible, stupid and useless. This one though, he wasn't. Not only was he not awful, but he was actually astounding, absolutely extraordinary.

Of course, he was none other than Hoody.

God, where was Observer even supposed to start with listing all his good features? For a human, he was incredible. Hell, even if he weren't a human, he'd still be amazing, but the fact that he was human somehow made all the great qualities he had seem even better, perhaps because they weren't expected.

Even when they'd first met, Observer had known he was different from other humans, better than the others. Just something about how he behaved, something about how he carried himself, it was just obvious that he was so much better than them. After having watched the human for a while, this belief was only strengthened. And their first actual interaction? That hadn't even been needed for Observer to come to this conclusion, but it had happened and it had been fucking fantastic. First impressions really did matter, it seemed.

How exactly was he different from most other humans, you might ask. Well, how wasn't he? As was previously mentioned, most other humans were god awful in just about every way, and Hoody wasn't. Hoody was actually one of the best people there were, human or otherwise. Humans also happened to be incredibly dull. Hoody though, he was stunningly smart. He thought differently than the others, he actually focused on shit that mattered, unlike most people who only focused on either pointless shit or themselves. And useless was another quality humans had, that Hoody didn't. He was really the opposite of useless. He actually got a lot of shit done, actually important shit though, shit that actually meant something.

Hoody also had better sight than most humans, alright actually he had better sight than all humans. It wasn't nearly on par with Observer's, of course, but it was impressive as hell. He saw things, things that other humans didn't, things that humans shouldn't have been able to see. He couldn't see them all the time of course, they came and went, more like visions than legitimate sight, but still, they were there, and Hoody put them to good use. He was using them for important things, great things. Most of his visions were used to help him find the ark.

What exactly the ark was, neither of them were sure yet. It was something good though, something worth finding, they were sure of that much. Currently, they were working together on that.

Sight aside, Hoody was just a generally good person. He was just better, more pleasant to be around. Where other people, human and otherwise, failed, Hoody succeeded. For example, most people wouldn't even put up with Observer, they'd either ignore him or tell him to fuck off. Even people he should have been on good terms with didn't do any more than tolerate him. Hoody though, he did that and more. He actually spent time with Observer, indulged him, listened to him.

Hoody must have been really fucking patient too. After all, dealing with Observer wasn't an easy thing. He did it though, and he actually seemed to enjoy it too. He dealt with all the qualities that others considered annoying or aggravating and he actually seemed to not mind them.

It was mentioned before that he listened to Observer, but that was really an understatement. He actually took interest in Observer, and in the things the entity said and talked about. He would let Observer ramble on for hours about whatever fucking topic he wanted, and he'd just listen. He'd also add discussion too, but he wasn't annoying about it, he knew when to speak and when not to. He'd always only speak when input was wanted, thus always leading to good conversation, which really Observer could always use more of.

All in all, Hoody was just great. There really wasn't anything about him Observer didn't like, unless you counted the whole human thing, but really that didn't matter. Observer couldn't get enough of him, and he looked forward to each time they got to interact. Observer felt lucky just to know Hoody, and the fact that the other actually seemed to like him and also seemed to enjoy spending time together, that was absolutely mind blowing. If there was one word that Observer could use to describe his feelings toward their relationship, it'd be blessed. He felt just so happy to have gotten to know Hoody, and to have him in his life.


	18. Seeing Things(Kevin X Milo)

Whenever Milo got to stay with Kevin, he felt really happy. Shit, whenever they even got to see each other he was happy, even just thinking about Kevin made him happy honestly. Although staying with him was something else, something pretty great. Not only because his own house was fucking awful, mostly thanks to his caretaker that he didn't even want to call his parent, but also because it meant more time with his friend. That was something that always made him feel better, no matter how bad he felt. Just being around Kevin rose his mood, and helped him a lot. He was pretty sure that his friend helped him more than any therapist ever had.

 

He didn't often get to stay the night with Kevin though. It wasn't an issue with the other's parents, it almost never was. Kevin's parents were almost always alright with them spending time together. Milo's mother though, she didn't like him having people over, and also didn't like him leaving the house for prolonged periods of time. Nine times out of ten, she was the reason that they couldn't be together. Sure, they saw each other at school, but it just wasn't the same.

 

Sometimes though, Milo found loopholes. For instance, sometimes she worked at night, and wasn't back until late morning. On those nights the two of them could be together just fine, and as long as they returned to their own respective homes on time there would be no issues, Mary would be none the wiser.

 

Now was one of those particular nights. He had known about his mother's plans beforehand, and since earlier that day he'd been planning, waiting. He was going to leave shortly after she did and make his way to Kevin's, they lived close enough to each other that it wouldn't be too inconvenient of a walk.

 

This was one of the rare times in his life where he had high spirits and was relatively happy with how things were going. Not just because he'd be able to spend a night with his friend, although that was a big part of it, but also because it had been a while since he'd seen anything.

 

He had problems with hallucinations, at least that's what every therapist he spoke to said. He personally didn't think what he saw was mere hallucinations, he believed that what he saw was real. He could swear that he'd been physically affected by what he saw. The things, or rather just one thing, had hurt him before. He was sure of it, unless those incidents had been him hurting himself, and although he did occasionally cause himself physical harm, it was never anything like what that thing did. The most he'd do is leave a few cuts, while the thing he saw would leave him with severe headaches, a bloody nose, sometimes it'd even make him cough up blood if it was feeling especially hostile.

 

He had talked about these symptoms with both therapists and actual doctors. They couldn't find any evidence that they were actually happening, so they waved it off, they figured that maybe it was more hallucinations, that he was imagining the pain. This, of course, pissed him off, but he figured they couldn't do anything to help him anyway, so he didn't hold too much of a grudge.

 

He hadn't seen the thing for a while now though, it had been weeks, maybe even a full month. This helped with his overall condition a lot. Not only did this help with his mood, but it had been long enough since he'd seen it that the vague feeling of fear and stress that the thought of it being around brought was gone. So, in short, with this and being able to see his friend, things were going pretty good for him.

 

When he actually got to Kevin's place, it seemed like things were only going to continue to be good. Despite the fact that he arrived at nearly midnight, his friend's parents greeted him happily and didn't seem to mind the time at all. That might have been because it wasn't a school night, or because they were somewhat used to this. Whatever the reason, it was nice.

 

Kevin, of course, was also happy to see him. He'd been waiting for Milo to arrive and was the first to greet him.

 

They spent a good few hours together, not doing anything too specific, catching up mostly. The short period of time they got to see each other during school wasn't really long enough for them to properly be caught up with how each other were doing.

 

Kevin, as usual, was doing pretty alright. His life wasn't nearly as complicated as Milo's, less hectic, not as much happened. He was very happy to hear that Milo was doing good though, as that wasn't a common occurrence.

 

The time not spent catching up was mostly spent fucking around, just having fun, making each other laugh. It was pretty great. Milo didn't laugh too often, but Kevin always managed to get a good few chuckles out of him.

 

Milo had already been doing fairly good, so this just made him feel even better. He actually couldn't remember the last time he'd been this happy, it had been a while.

 

Of course, knowing his luck, he shouldn't have been surprised when it didn't even last the full night.

 

Things had gone south a few hours after he'd arrived. He'd left Kevin for just a few minutes, gotten up to do something. He couldn't even remember what it was, but that's beside the point.

 

He'd just been walking through the house, minding his business. At some point he passed by a window. He hadn't initially planned to look out of it, but he thought he saw something move outside of it, out of the corner of his eye. He knew that it was probably just a tree, or a car or something, but he still stopped where he was and looked.

 

It wasn't any of the things he expected. What he saw when he looked was actually the thing that he saw a lot, the thing that was apparently his most frequent hallucination.

 

This made him freeze. It was almost exactly at eye level with him, a bit higher. It was so fucking close, he swore he could see the details of its face, or lack of rather.

 

This wasn't the first time it had shown up away from his home, of course. He'd seen it at school enough times before, sometimes he saw it just out in public. Nobody else ever noticed it though. This, however, was the first time it had shown up at Kevin's house. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it while at Kevin's, but all the other times it hadn't actually been on the property, it had been across the street or something.

 

The shock of seeing it after so long mixed with the thought that it was actually near his friend was enough to completely terrify him.

 

He wanted to look away, ignore it, just pretend it wasn't there. Like he usually did. He felt like he couldn't move though, his eyes were locked on it. Part of him also didn't want to leave it, he had it in his mind that if he kept his eyes on it, then it wouldn't be able to do anything to harm Kevin. He wasn't sure where he go this notion from, maybe he thought that this would keep it focused on him. He wasn't thinking too clearly.

 

He could feel himself start to shake. It wasn't supposed to be here. In all the years he'd dealt with it, which had been nearly all his life, and all the years he'd known Kevin, it had never come here. He'd never even thought about the possibility of it coming here before. He couldn't think of a reason for it to come here.

 

Well, he could think of one reason. The reason why it being here scared him so much. He could only think that it was here to hurt his friend.

 

He wanted to back away, his instincts were telling him to at least, but he couldn't. He was rooted to the spot. He could feel the telltale static in his head, it always came when he looked for too long, or if it was too close.

 

He was sure that the more severe symptoms would start soon. It never took long for them to, especially at this close range.

 

The only thought going through his head was how badly he wanted it to go away. He didn't want it to be here, this was the last place it was supposed to be. He continuously mentally told it to go away. It couldn't hear him, of course, and if it could then it wasn't listening. It had no reason to.

 

He was completely unprepared for the spike of pain that shot through his head. He toppled over onto his knees, and he might have screamed. He wasn't sure, he couldn't hear anything aside from the ringing. Finally though, he was looking away. Now his head was angled toward the floor, his eyes were squeezed shut though.

 

He wasn't aware of the rushed footsteps approaching him. He had no idea that anyone else was there until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

 

He jolted, tensing up, he hadn't been expecting that. He relaxed a bit when he heard the voice of who it belonged to. It was Kevin, and he sounded really worried.

 

Milo looked up at him. He felt that the pain from only a few moments ago was gone now, but he was still extremely scared.

 

Kevin was crouched in front of him, and he looked just as worried as he'd sounded. He wiped the tears off Milo's face, apparently he'd started crying at some point. He repeated what he said earlier, since it seemed it hadn't been heard. "Milo, what's wrong? What happened?"

 

It took Milo a few moments to find his voice. As he was doing so he allowed himself to look back towards the window. His eyes widened when he saw that it was gone. After a few seconds he managed to get out a very shaky "It was right there."

 

It took a bit, but Kevin knew exactly what he meant. He let out a quiet 'oh' before returning his attention to his friend. He moved the hand on Milo's shoulder to his hair, running it through in a way that he hoped was comforting. "There's nothing there now, it's alright." He was slightly unsure, he knew that he couldn't see what Milo did, so for all he knew it could still be there. He made sure he sounded sure and grounded though, also knowing that if he wavered that might make Milo even more scared.

 

Milo looked in between the window and Kevin a few times. It seemed he was right, it was gone, but he couldn't shake the feeling of fear from himself. He wrapped his arms around Kevin, pulling himself closer, burying his face in the other's shoulder.

 

Kevin returned the gesture, holding the other male gently, running a hand along his back. He muttered words that were meant to be comforting and calming.

 

They stayed like that for a while, exactly how long neither was sure. After some time Kevin fell silent, and Milo's crying quieted down to just sniffles and ragged breathing.

 

Kevin was the first to move. He stood, helping Milo do the same.

 

They kept an arm around each other as they walked. Kevin was leading, Milo just following. He led him to the bedroom, Kevin's to be specific.

 

Normally when he stayed over Milo slept on the couch, Kevin's bed was only big enough to really fit one person. Milo didn't want to be alone after that though, more specifically he didn't want to be away from his friend. Kevin seemed to realize that without it having to be said.

 

It took a few minutes for them to get comfortable, but once they were it didn't take Milo too long to relax. His face was nestled in Kevin's shoulder and arms remained wrapped around him. After a while, his trembling almost completely stopped, and he found that he was actually rather tired.

 

He fell asleep like that, in Kevin's arms. It took a little while, but Kevin followed suit, holding Milo close to him.


	19. Open Minded(Deadhead X Mr. Scars)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems I've reached a medium of writing the same ships over and over again. I can't say that I'm not fine with this

Deadhead and Mr. Scars disagreed on a lot of things, that was for sure. Ethically, they didn't see eye to eye and politically they had virtually nothing that they really agreed on. Deadhead's views are self explanatory, he was a literal Nazi and he was not going to be swayed in his beliefs, not one single bit. Scars was, of course, far more liberal, to say the least. He wasn't exactly left wing, more of a centrist than anything, but that was still pretty damn far on the spectrum away from Deadhead. 

One would think that these disagreements would cause issues, especially considering how major they were. Deadhead believed that most of the people that Scars cared about, along with Scars himself technically, deserved to be killed because they were either born wrong or believed wrong. Scars believed that the idea of people deserving to be killed over how they were born or what they had faith in was fucking ridiculous, it really made no sense to him. 

Surprisingly though, this never really caused any problems between them, no big ones at least. They sometimes had minor tussles here and there, of course, but there was never any real relationship breaking things that happened during these. 

For the first few months, maybe even the first year of their friendship, they mostly just avoided talking about their beliefs altogether. They knew that couldn't last forever though, if they kept that up for too long then they'd probably go fucking mad. Deadhead was the first one to really breach the topic, since he was the one out of the two of them who was generally more outspoken and passionate about this stuff anyway, and things went better than either of them really expected. After that encounter, they started giving a lot less of a shit about saying things that might offend each other, since they realized that doing so would actually be quite hard.

Deadhead wasn't too happy about spending a large amount of time with someone who was completely against a big part of his identity, but he could deal with it and get over it, since otherwise Scars was a pleasant person to be around. Scars honestly cared a lot less about what Deadhead believed in than he expected, and probably less than he should've. Really, aside from the whole Nazi thing, Deadhead was pretty cool. He helped Scars a lot since he was assimilated, a hell of a lot more than any other member did, and nine times out of ten he didn't even have to be asked to help, but he offered. All differing opinions aside, Scars was pretty much eternally grateful for that, since he sure as hell wasn't going to seek out help himself. 

They didn't disagree on everything though, there were a few things they were on the same page about. The few things they agreed on were things that they agreed on a lot too, and definitely made the mountain of disagreements worth it, and actually helped them bond quite a bit. For example, they both thought that Cursor was an insufferable cunt. Scars thought so for hopefully obvious reasons, and Deadhead thought so for a lot of the same reasons as Scars, as well as the way she treated Swain. They both also fucking hated the far left. Deadhead hated them because they were politically the opposite of him basically, it wouldn't make sense for him to not hate them. Scars hated them just because he thought they were fucking stupid, plain and simple. His beliefs and their beliefs hardly aligned at all, and as far as he was concerned they were far too intolerant about it for him to not hate them. Deadhead at first didn't know the extent of just how bad the left was getting, since he didn't exactly pay too close of attention to modern politics in general. Scars at some point had started to get him up to speed, telling him about things such as the fact that some people believed in 70 plus genders, and the anti fascist movement whose members mostly consisted of violent fascists. They could easily sit down and talk shit on this topic for hours, and they often did, it was actually one of their favorite activities. 

Sometimes Scars felt like he was far too accepting of the whole Nazi thing, especially considering his family history and everything, but he never really cared enough to stop. He was already technically dead, and it wasn't like fighting against this whole belief system would do him any good. Really, it'd just make him lose one of the few beams of support he had left, and god knows that he needed every bit of support he got. Maybe openly supportive of the whole thing towards Deadhead was a bit of a stretch, and using the fourteen magic words semi-regularly, albeit ironically, was a bit much, but the other member seemed to like it, and Scars thought it was fun, so it worked out.

It wasn't like Deadhead didn't have similar concerns. He would sometimes think about how much this would be looked down on if he were still in Nazi Germany. Shit, he'd probably be tossed to the death squads for even willingly letting Scars live, let alone getting close to him. But, he also often reminded himself that he indeed was unfortunately not still in Nazi Germany, he was in the Collective realm, where everyone was a slave and nothing really mattered. Fraternizing with someone like Scars would have no negative consequences for him, besides a slightly worn conscience, which he could ignore. Besides, being as close to the other as he was actually helped him in a way. He really missed his past, in case that wasn't obvious enough, and was often extremely homesick. Having a friend that wasn't also a Nazi helped him take his mind off this, and even when they were on the topic, Scars somehow managed to talk about it in a way that didn't make him miss it, no more than he did normally at least. With Scars it was more of a feeling of nostalgia, rather than the yearning he got when he was with Swain or by himself.

Before he joined the Collective, or rather was forced in, Scars had two main pillars of support, which he was pretty sure he would've died without. They were his cousin Noah and his friend Kevin. The two of them had been there for him when he didn't have anyone else, and they were a big reason as to why he never actually ended up killing himself, despite really wanting to sometimes. Now that he'd been assimilated, he of course didn't have such luxuries anymore. When he was first dragged in, he had pretty much nothing, and the only reason he didn't end it as soon as he could was because he was still in shock over the fact that he was still alive to begin with. Sure, with Firebrand's existence he could still sometimes see his cousin, but it was even less often than when he'd been alive, and not nearly often enough to really satisfy either of them. Kevin was also out of the question, because as much as Scars missed him, he'd rather be alone than drag him into this mess. 

For a while, it seemed like he was going to be stuck with this as the norm. It seemed like there was no real way things could change, and the only way out of this mess would be death, a hopefully permanent death this time. That was around the time he and Deadhead officially met, and found out that they could actually stand each others presence. Not long after that it turned out that he found out that complaining about his problems to the Knight actually helped him, more than any therapist had. Maybe it helped so much because he could tell that it wasn't being done just for money, and it didn't seem like it was being done out of pity either, but because on some level Deadhead actually kind of gave a shit. Whatever the reason, after the two of them got closer, Scars figured that trying to live might not be the worst thing in the world, and he decided to give that whole thing a shot.

Deadhead's experience was similar, it was to what most would consider a much lesser extent, but the similarities were there. Before getting assimilated, he had many things that he enjoyed and lived for, the most notable being his ideology and the whole war thing. He considered that as his purpose. He was assimilated before the war actually ended, and after a while he found out that his side had lost. He was pretty broken up about it for a while, and he'd never really be completely over it, but he realized that there was nothing that could be done about it, and likely nothing that could have really stopped it, so over time he learned to accept it. Plus, the fact that there were still people in modern times who believed in the things that he did made him feel a bit better, it gave him a sort of hope and comfort. Another big thing that helped was Swain, they'd been friends since before being assimilated and having someone else who understood this whole thing was great.

Still, as much as those things helped, there was nothing wrong with even more help. When they'd first met, Deadhead hadn't been completely knowledgeable on Scars' whole family history, so he didn't know just how many reasons he had to just dislike him automatically, and by the time he found out they were already fairly close, and Scars never made it a problem so he really didn't give much of a damn. Scars, as had been previously mentioned, helped him take his mind off things that bothered him, something about helping someone else with their problems made it easier to forget about his own. Spending time around Scars also made him think the blasphemous thought that maybe there were people that existed who were against his ideology who were actually likable and deserved to live....Actually no, that was a stretch, Scars was just a special exception. 

Their relationship actually did help them both be a bit more open minded though. As was previously mentioned, they didn't avoid the topic of their beliefs entirely, not even close. Although a lot of the time discussion of such things wasn't lengthy or serious, there were times when they would sit and have an actual serious debate about these things.

Unlike one would expect, these debates never devolved into petty name calling and at no point did they ever actually legitimately insult each others viewpoints on these things, as much as they likely wanted to. They did their best to keep things as respectful and calm as possible, and nine times out of ten they did a pretty good job of it.

Honestly though, calling what they did debating wasn't exactly accurate, since neither of them ever actually attempted to change the others point of view, they knew doing so would be pointless and would get them nowhere, and would just cause a lot of unneeded frustration. Really, what they were doing was more along the lines of explaining why they believed certain things so that the other could more easily understand why they thought what they did, without having to agree with it. This actually helped them get to know each other rather well, which in turn helped them bond and get closer to each other. It also helped them find a few more minor agreements here and there, which was always nice.

Overall, they were pretty happy with the current state of their relationship. They had mutual understanding, they both benefited from it, and they didn't need to agree on everything to enjoy each others company. This was probably as good as it was going to get for them, and quite honestly, they were both fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, realizing a ship between a corpse and a Nazi is my ideal relationship: ,,,,


	20. Hey White Brother(Deadhead X Swain)

For as long as the both of them could remember, Deadhead and Swain had always had each others backs. Since before they were assimilated, when they were still alive, they'd been there for each other, and even through everything they'd endured as Collective members, they stayed by each others side.

Neither of them were really sure when they met honestly, aside from it being before the whole Collective nonsense. It could have been before the war, it could have been during, really it had been too long for them to be able to remember. When they met didn't really matter anyway, what did matter was how well they suited each other.

Of course, their similar beliefs made it easier to get along, but even if you disregarded that completely, they fit together astonishingly well.

Deadhead was the more reserved of the two, by a lot actually. Even before the Collective, when there was a good selection of people he could potentially socialize with, he normally didn't. This wasn't because he had trouble doing so, if he ever wanted to strike up conversation with someone then he could, he just normally preferred to be on his own.

Swain wasn't exactly the polar opposite in that regard, but there certainly was a stark contrast. He needed more socialization than Deadhead in general to be comfortable, and likely couldn't keep himself isolated for more than a few days.

Once they were assimilated, not much of these details changed, although something about the transition between the regular world and the Collective realm made both of them hate being alone, which was great, because they both had been forced in, so neither of them had to be.

When they were forced into the Collective, they had also been forced to learn basic English, since apparently that was the language that most of the future members would know, and apparently being able to communicate with the others would be important.

Needless to say, this wasn't an easy task for either of them. It had been spurred onto them without them expecting it, and the unexpectedness of it plus the fact that they were still adjusting to their new environment made it more difficult than it needed to be.

Out of the two of them, Swain ended up learning faster and having an easier time, which was good since Deadhead had very little luck in this department.

That wasn't to say that Deadhead was learning slower because he was less smart or anything like that, their knowledge in this general subject was probably about even. No, the main reason Deadhead took longer to learn the language than Swain was because he was more meticulous and picky about it. Where Swain would let himself make mistakes and shrug them off fairly easily, Deadhead would get caught up on mistakes he made, which would end up hindering his progress. Luckily for him, Swain would help him work past said mistakes faster than he would if he were doing this alone, so in the end they both became decently fluent in about the same amount of time.

Sometimes one of the two of them would wind up getting homesick. This happened more often when they first joined, but never completely stopped. Whenever one of them started feeling this way, the other was always more than willing to help. More often than not, this would lead to the homesickness rubbing off on the other, but that was fine. They could help each other through the same thing at the same time.

Deadhead had a harder time dealing with these feelings than Swain for the most part, he was the more nationalistic of the two after all. He missed his home, and he missed his country, and sometimes the situation they were in felt so wrong that it actually pained him. Swain knew his friend well though, and he knew exactly how to help. Deadhead was incredibly grateful for that, considering how bad it sometimes got.

These feelings manifested a bit differently for Swain. While Deadhead missed their home as a whole, Swain found himself missing the smaller details a bit more. There were so many things that he liked doing, and he also had a few other friends and acquaintances in the past, and thinking about how he'd never get to do those things or speak to those people again was kind of depressing. Not to mention freedom itself had been pretty nice, and that was another thing they didn't have anymore.

When his mind got on this topic, he ended up spending more time with Deadhead. His friend didn't even have to know what was upsetting him, or know that he was upset at all, to help. All they had to do was spend time together and Swain would end up feeling at least a little better. Sure, he'd had a lot of things taken from him when he'd been assimilated, but at least he still had Deadhead.

This was something the two of them would always be grateful for. As awful and seemingly unbearable as things could get, they'd at least always have each other. Unless something were to happen that would end up separating them or, god forbid, killing one of them, they'd have one another.

If you considered how long they'd been in the Collective together, and how long they knew each other before that, there was more time in their lives where things were like this than when they weren't. They'd been together for so long that they couldn't even realistically imagine what things would be like if they weren't.

Sometimes they tried talking about if they did get permanently separated, they wanted to take precautions to make sure they'd be alright without each other, but even then they couldn't properly grasp the concept of not having each other, and although they tried to plan in advance for if anything ever did happen, they knew that most likely they wouldn't be able to handle such a situation.

They tried not to think about it that way though, they tried to be hopeful on the rare occasions where these thoughts crossed their minds. Mainly because they didn't want to think about the other suffering. Even if, let's say Swain, knew that personally he wouldn't be able to handle it, he liked to think that Deadhead would be able to, he liked to think that his friend was strong enough to be able to handle it.

Even when looking at it like that though, it was an unpleasant topic to think about, so they normally didn't. If they were thinking about each other, then it was probably them valuing the time they had together, or appreciating each other in general.

They never really expressed this appreciation aloud, as neither of them had ever been all that great with sharing their emotions. They didn't exactly need to though, on some level they both knew how much they meant to the other. Really, considering how well they knew each other and how much time they spent together, how could they not?

In some part of their minds, they knew just how much they were cherished by the other, which in turn made them appreciate each other even more.

They knew that they'd die for each other, and knowing this made them all the more willing to do so if they needed. They knew that if given the choice between separated but free or continued slavery in solidarity, they'd choose the latter.

They didn't have to express any of these thoughts because they both knew and that was another thing that they liked about one another.

They were glad that they both knew about how they felt, because they were fairly certain that if they ever had to actually articulate their feelings, they wouldn't be able to. Both because they weren't good with that sort of thing, and because there was too much for them to possibly be able to cover through speech, there was no way they could properly get across everything they felt just by speaking.

This is why they were lucky that they were so in tune with each other, it made things a lot easier, and considering the difficulty of their current situation, that was a pretty good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So recently it occurred to me that I've never actually written Swain, which is a travesty considering how many times I've written Deadhead. I love them both, so this chapter is a thing I guess  
> I'm fully aware that I don't know how to end things. I'm also 100% ready for everything here to be debunked once Sebastian's journal is released, I'm just glad that I finally got to write these two together  
> I also apologize for the chapter title, but I couldn't stop myself


	21. Human Tradition(HoodServer)

It was pretty common knowledge that Observer wasn't a human, excluding the Keeper he was actually the only Collective member who had never been human. Because of this, he sometimes had a hard time understanding certain things about humans.

Most of the things he had issues with were behavioral and cultural things, he was rarely ever puzzled by biological and physical things. Perhaps this was because he was similar enough to humans in those senses, or maybe humans were just very simple and easily understandable when it came to physical attributes. He didn't know, and he didn't really care, honestly. He could understand and that was enough for him, he didn't need to find out why.

That being said, there were a lot of things about human behavior and conditioning that were completely alien to him. Almost everything in these categories were strange to him, actually. Mentally and culturally, humans were a very confusing species as far as he was concerned. He often alternated between wanting to find out why they were the way that they are, and thinking that trying to figure it out would just end up being a complete waste of time. The more time that passed though, the more often he had to deal with such things though, the more often he found himself feeling the latter rather than the former.

Really, why should he get hung up on something so trivial, that has nothing to do with him, when he had the option to not bother? Most of the time when he tried to learn, it ended in even more confusion anyway, and at least a mild amount of frustration, so it didn't take him long to stop caring.

It was a bit more than just not caring though, if he was being completely honest. As time passed he found himself growing prejudiced against humans in general, almost anything about them caused him annoyance, and really who could blame him? Not only did they not make any sense, but they liked to act as if they were the most important and mighty species there is, despite not only being insignificant at best, but undoubtedly one of the worst that were out there.

He didn't even consider them the worst for a lot of the traditional reasons, truthfully. Sure, they were slowly destroying their planet, causing mass extinction and such, but that wasn't what got to him. Of course, that was bad too, but it was more like the icing on top of the cake than anything. He mostly hated them because he thought they were completely stupid, everything about them and what they did was ignorant at best and absolutely mind numbing at worst.

He could go on for ages about this subject, and had in the past. It seemed like whenever he thought he'd found the absolute rock bottom of their stupidity, he could look and see something even worse without even trying, and because of this the entire species, or race or whatever, had been ruined for him.

That being said, there were certain exceptions to this, not all humans were as bad as the majority. Which is to say, there was only one exception that he'd found, and as far as he was concerned that was the only exception.

A while back, he wasn't sure exactly how long it had been, he stumbled across a human that had caught his attention. One that genuinely interested him, not because they seemed like they'd be entertaining or anything, but because they seemed different from other humans he'd seen. Less unbearable in general, seemed like they actually knew what they were doing, and what they were doing actually seemed like something reasonably smart.

This human turned out to be a man by the name of Brian Thomas, although that wasn't what he went by usually. He preferred to be called Hoody, for reasons that were quite apparent if you ever saw him.

After a series of events, which mostly consisted of Observer bothering him for a while until they could properly meet, they ended up forming a sort of alliance. As it turned out, Observer's hunch about him was right, he was much better than most people.

There were many reasons for this, too many to really get into, but one of the qualities that Observer particularly liked was that Hoody was aware of how utterly awful most other humans were, and he seemed to make a conscious effort to not be like them. He agreed with nearly all of Observer's points about why humans were terrible, and there were times where the two of them could sit and talk on that subject for hours.

Of course, there were things about humanity that Hoody remained somewhat attached to, which was understandable and honestly somewhat expected. Pretty much all of the things in this category were minor too, things that were easy for Observer to adjust to, so it really didn't cause any unnecessary strife or ill will between them. This was helped by the fact that when Observer didn't understand something, his hooded accomplice was patient with him, and would take the time to explain things in a respectful manner. A lot of the time he still felt like what was explained to him was foolish or frivolous in some way, but he at least could respect that Hoody disagreed.

As was mentioned before though, most of the things Hoody stuck with were minor, things that weren't all that extravagant or anything, things that for the most part be easily brushed off. So, because of this, when one day Hoody tried to introduce him to an entire holiday, it was somewhat confusing.

Holidays and traditions were one of the things that he'd thought that both of them didn't really care for. They never really talked about them, except for occasional offhand mentions that weren't really important to their conversation. Apparently though, this one was an exception to that, and although they'd had to have known each other for at least a year or so at that point, it was only being brought up now.

He was pretty lost at first. Open to what was being introduced to him, due to it being introduced by someone he knew he could trust, but it was still very strange. He also wasn't sure at first if the explanation of it he was given made it easier or harder to understand.

Apparently, it was called Valentines Day. It was described to him as a day where two people who really cared for each other spent the day together, expressing how they felt about each other.

He was pretty sure there was a reason Hoody had picked this specific holiday to explain to him, one that extended beyond the fact that it was the day of said holiday.

At first he suspected that this was some elaborate way for Hoody to tell him that he appreciated their companionship. Usually the two of them were rather cryptic with each other, so this seemed rather likely.

When he voiced this guess, he found that apparently he was right, to an extent. He wasn't told what that extent was, he just knew that apparently he was on the right track.

He wasn't sure what else to make of this, since he couldn't really think of anything deeper than that. Or rather, he likely could, but was choosing not to, since everything else that was in that vein seemed very unlikely, very much so that it would be ridiculous to even assume any of it for a second.

Of course, since it wasn't going to be explained to him directly, he was given more hints. Apparently, this holiday wasn't really for regular companions, but something more than that, something more special and sacred.

With all that being said to him, it was all but spelled out, and he still refused to consider the possibility that was staring him dead in the face.

More hints were given though, and the more he heard the more likely the possibility he was trying to deny seemed. To be fair, he wasn't trying to deny it because he didn't want it to be true, quite the opposite in fact. He didn't want to get his hopes up only to be disappointed, especially because if he did so with something like this it would also lead to a great deal of embarrassment.

Still, he had to voice this possibility eventually, since everything else he guessed was apparently not quite on the mark.

So, after a while of playing dumb, longer than he'd like to admit, he finally just came out and asked. He asked if this holiday was a love thing.

When he asked this, although Hoody's face was obscured, he could just tell that it lit up as he confirmed Observer's suspicions.

Even though at this point he had no reason to doubt anything with the information that had been presented to him, he still felt the need to question further, he had to be absolutely sure before acting on anything. So he asked, if this holiday was about love, and was celebrated by couples, then did that mean what he thought it did?

Unsurprisingly to everyone but him, the answer to that question was yes. Apparently, Hoody had felt this way about him for a while, and earlier in the year had planned on telling him like this, by explaining to him this tradition and allowing him to draw his own conclusion. Of course, he made sure to specify that if Observer didn't reciprocate then that was fine, and they could never bring this up again. The way he said it though made it clear that he was sure Observer felt the same way.

He was right too, Observer did. He wasn't sure how long he'd felt this way, since he normally tried not to look too deep into his emotions, but he'd been pining after Hoody for quite some time now. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if that was how he felt when they initially met and he was only recently figuring out that this was how he felt.

Regardless of when he'd started feeling these things, he wasted no time letting Hoody know that he did feel them. Once it started occurring to him that this was actually happening, he was actually getting pretty excited. The thought of forming an actual relationship with Hoody seemed almost too good to be true, and the fact that it's what was actually happening to him stirred emotions that he hadn't even been aware of, all positive emotions.

Although he didn't show his excitement, or emotions in general, as outwardly as Observer did, it was clear that Hoody was feeling the same way. He was definitely very relieved that everything had gone as he'd planned, and was definitely elated knowing that he and Observer were officially partners, in more than one sense of the word.

They ended up spending the rest of that day together, and talked well into the night too. This was their regular routine, although this time it was different. This time they were sitting much closer to each other, to the point where they were pressed up against each other, without having to worry about bothering each other. During their conversations they occasionally traded compliments, and it was kind of awkward at first, but it didn't take them long to get used to it. One of them ended up resting in the other's arms at some point later into the night, and they stayed like that until they'd needed to separate, because Observer had to get back to the Collective realm.

Even after they went their separate ways, they couldn't stop thinking about each other, and what spending time together was going to be like now that their relationship was like this.

They couldn't wait to see where this new stage of their relationship would end up taking them. Even if it was something as small and simple as them being able to be more open and affectionate with each other, it was definitely something they could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, it's been a while since I've written either of these guys. Feels fresh, feels organic. I hope I didn't fuck either of their personalities up too bad
> 
> Anyway, Observer being confused by human traditions has always been an Aesthetic of mine and the thought of someone asking him out for Valentines day is an A++ image


	22. Control(Milo X Observer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recent events in Milo's journal inspired me to cook up some Pitch Rooks. If you're not up to date w/ the journals, I suggest reading em before this. Also Observer is an It in this b/c at this point in time Milo doesn't know or care that he's a dude

Milo and Kevin had known each other for quite a while, since the two of them were children. Ever since they were young, Kevin had always been an amazing friend to Milo, one of the only ones he had actually. He was the only person who would listen to Milo when he talked about the big man and his nightmares and such, and was also the only person who would believe him about these things, even though he didn't completely understand them.

As of now, they were in their teens. A lot had happened as they grew older, most of the happening being on Milo's end, and they somehow maintained the bond they had when they first met. It was kind of hard, both with Milo's issues and how his mother often was, but they managed.

They both learned a lot as they got older as well. For example, Kevin learned how to better handle Milo when he got particularly bad, which was very good considering his issues just seemed to be getting worse. He also learned more about Milo's problems in general, since Milo was also still learning about them and he was very open with Kevin about new information.

Kevin wasn't the only one who ended up learning things though, Milo learned a bit as well. Truthfully though, he often wished he didn't know the information on his friend that he did. You see, sometimes Kevin wasn't really himself. Something or someone else would take over and would control him, every time this happened Kevin ended up having no memory of what took place.

Milo had learned this at a very young age, hardly a year after they first met, if that. Even then he'd been sure that it was somehow his fault, that his problems had spread to his friend, but he didn't know much more than that. Even now he didn't really, but at least over time he'd learned how to better handle it when it happened.

The thing that possessed Kevin was definitely something that Milo had dealt with, it was definitely with the big man, Mr Slim, whatever its name actually was. It never had much issue letting him know this information whenever it was active. Not that it was very forthcoming and up front about the information, it just didn't bother trying to hide it after a certain point.

Most of the time when it took control of Kevin, it was very pushy with what it wanted. It talked about them going to see his grandfather. At first it tried to make excuses so that Milo wouldn't get suspicious of it, wanting to learn more about WW2 history was one of the more believable ones. Once it caught on that Milo wasn't buying it though, it was fairly straightforward with what it wanted. It said that Karl had something important that the big man, or the Keeper as it had called it, needed.

Milo already knew that. They'd been pushing him to get his grandfather's journal since before his age was even in the double digits. He still wasn't completely sure why they wanted it so bad, but then again he didn't really care too much either. What they wanted wasn't his problem, or it wouldn't be if they would stop bothering him and realize that he wasn't going to do their dirty work.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen though, they'd been fucking with him too long to just give up now, especially considering the times where he'd gotten close to actually getting what they wanted.

So that left him in his current state. Not good by any means, seeing the tall fucker more times than he could be bothered to count, and on top of that and horrifying nightmares, he occasionally had to deal with his friend getting possessed.

The possession thing wouldn't be as bad as everything else if it were more predictable though, honestly. At least with the big man he knew that he was almost guaranteed to see it any given day, and anytime he managed to sleep he could expect some sort of nightmare, even if he didn't remember it when he woke up. The thing that took over Kevin though? It didn't come around super often, and when it did its timing was always unpredictable and almost always took him by surprise.

When it showed up, its actions were nearly always unpredictable as well. Aside from its usual reminder that he needed to get the journal, he never really knew what it would do.

Thankfully, it usually kept itself manageable, at least what Milo would consider manageable. It was reckless and terrible at taking care of the body it took over, and would often use scare tactics with whatever powers it had, but once he got used to that it wasn't any worse than his nightmares usually.

That didn't mean it wasn't fucking annoying, though.

One particular visit from it stood out more than the others, perhaps because it was more unusual than the other times.

It had happened one night when he'd been lucky enough to stay over with Kevin, for once they'd actually been working on homework together rather than Milo having to lie to his mom and say that was what they would be doing. It wasn't all that eventful, they weren't really having much trouble, and for the most part were just relaxing. They weren't too focused on what they were doing, so they were having casual conversation as they worked.

Milo wasn't exactly sure when Kevin lost control, since for once it didn't make itself obvious right away, but once it decided to drop a hint it dropped it hard.

A grin that seemed unlike one Kevin would give spread across his friend's face, and it gestured for him to come closer. "Hey Milo, does this look like the right answer?"

He peeked over to his friend's paper, and as soon as he saw what was written his mood took a downward curve. Instead of anything that could be considered an answer, it was that fucking symbol, the one with the overlapping eyes. He looked back up to his friend's face to see that the smile was wider than before.

Milo moved a considerable distance away and sighed. "What the fuck do you want?" The question was rhetorical, of course. He knew what it wanted, the same thing as it always wanted. He still felt the need to ask though, for whatever reason, it was basically his equivalent of a hello for this thing.

"I know what you're thinking, but I wasn't actually planning on asking you to do anything this time." It shifted into a more comfortable position, keeping its eyes fixated on him.

"Then why even bother showing up?" It was bad enough having to deal with it pestering him about the journal, he really didn't want to have it around him when it didn't want something from him.

"I just felt like saying hi." It was obvious that it was just trying to get a reaction out of him, the friendliness in its voice didn't sound genuine at all.

"Observer." Milo sighed out its name. He rarely addressed it by name, he actually usually tried to avoid saying it most of the time, but sometimes when he was especially annoyed it served as good emphasis. "Have you considered that I don't fucking like you, and don't want you around me?"

"Milo." The smile didn't leave Observer's face, but it looked significantly more strained. "Have you considered that I don't like you either, but my main job is watching you, and after a while of that it gets extremely boring?"

Normally when it started getting angry, Milo would back off a bit. He didn't know everything this thing could do, and he wasn't too keen on finding out. For some reason, this time was different though. Maybe he was feeling reckless and wasn't thinking of the possible consequences, or maybe he was more aggravated than usual with the possession of his friend. Either way, this time he decided to keep pushing. "Full offense, but I care a lot more about my safety and comfort than whether or not you're entertained."

Observer got a contemplative look on its face for a few moments. "Hm. I wish I cared about those things." It chuckled a bit to itself and moved closer to Milo, close enough that they were almost touching. "Actually, I do care about your safety, your comfort however means very little to me." Perhaps to prove its point a bit, it rested its hand on his shoulder.

Even though he knew it would be pointless, he shrugged its hand off of him. "Right, you care about my safety because if I die then I won't be able to get your stupid fucking book."

"Exactly!" The smile from before returned to Observer's face. "You know, sometimes you're actually kind of smart." It gave him a pat on the back, and he visibly held himself back from pushing it away.

For a second he was almost tempted to ask why it and its boss cared about the journal so much, but he decided against it. Not only had he already asked that in the past and gotten jack shit for an answer, but he really didn't want to hear it go on about that thing. "Alright so, I get that you're bored and all, but what exactly are you expecting to accomplish here, like what do you actually plan on doing?"

"I just want to spend some time together." It gave a similar answer to the one from before. "It's better than nothing, and you know some of the reactions I get from you are great." As if to bait him into proving its point, it placed its hand on his shoulder again. This time though it picked the one farthest away from it, and pulled him closer.

If this were actually Kevin, he wouldn't particularly mind it, depending on how he was feeling he might actually kind of enjoy it. Because he knew it wasn't though, being this close together was extremely uncomfortable. He knew that pushing Observer off of them would just keep going and make him even less comfortable with what it was doing, so he just tensed up and it do what it wanted for now.

Observer didn't seem to like his lack of response though, so it continued to pester him. "You know, I think it's actually been a while since I've visit you like this."

"Yeah, it would've been better if you stayed fucked off." He knew that responding to it would just fuel its will to bother him, but snapping back a bit in return made him feel slightly better about the situation. Plus, for all he knew ignoring it might piss it off even more.

"Aw, that's rude." Despite its words it didn't look or sound upset at all. "You know, I actually kind of missed you."

After speaking it slid its hand from his shoulder down his side, which caused a whole new wave of unease to rise in him. He tried to move away, which ultimately did nothing but make it tighten its grip. He knew he probably could actually get it off of him if he tried, he probably only had to push it away, but he had a hard time controlling his strength when he was uncomfortable like this, and he didn't want to risk accidentally pushing too hard and hurting Kevin's body, even if it was just a little bit. So, he decided to just let it do this. "I guess I can't blame you, I'm probably better than any of the other fuckers you have to work with."

He'd been referring to the other things that served under the big man, the ones he saw in his nightmares. It knew this, and laughed at him in response, giving him a little pat. "Oh, you have no idea."

The way it said that made him think there was some hidden meaning or joke there or something, but quite honestly he wasn't interested in finding out about anything it said that he didn't already know, since new information on these guys almost always was god awful.

"They're way too boring, I get much better reactions from you."

The hand that it had on his side moved down to his hip, and at this point he was completely sure that it was just trying to piss him off, which wasn't really surprising at all. It wanted him to act drastically, fight back, maybe end up making a fool out of himself since if its powers were accounted for it was a lot stronger than him. Maybe it wanted him to harm it, so it had something to use against him, make him feel bad for causing damage to his friend's body.

Whatever it wanted, he didn't want to give it that satisfaction. He did his best to respond to its nonsense like he would a normal conversation. "I can imagine, after dealing with you on a daily basis they probably get used to your shit."

"You guessed it, plus there are things I can do to you that I can't do to them." Like what it was doing right now, perhaps. "The Keeper doesn't like when I pester them too much, it gets in the way of both my work and theirs."

"But you're just fine in getting in the way of mine." Milo didn't honestly care that much about what he and Kevin had been working on, but doing that would be better than dealing with Observer.

"You can finish this later." It pushed their papers away, off the edge of the table they were sitting at. "Our work though, has to be completed at a certain time, if we don't do what we're told when we're told to do it, then it could ruin everything."

"Honestly, I really don't care about what you guys have to do." Milo moved their pencils to the other side of the table, away from Observer, those would be much harder to find again if they were pushed off. "Like, if you didn't bother me about it then I actually wouldn't care at all."

"You're still admitting that you care a little bit, you're so sweet." It pulled him against it tighter for a few moments, causing him to instinctively struggle against it, which only succeeded in making it laugh at him some more. After loosening its grip again, it rested its head on his shoulder. "Although, I guess maybe I should let you finish this, the less busywork you have to do the more time you have to do what we ask."

"I'm not gonna do anything you guys tell me to, but I guess I'd be less distracted." He decided to go along with its line of logic, since he felt like that might make it leave him alone for a while.

"Exactly, and if you're less distracted then it'll be easier to convince you." It seemed pretty sure that they'd be able to find a way to make him do things.

"You won't be able to, but it'd probably be easier to fuck with me if my mind's not on something else."

"You can put it however you want, it basically means the same thing." It shrugged, shifting slightly so that it was more properly facing him. "I guess I'll be seeing you later, then."

"Yeah, fuck off." The sooner it left, the better. Although, the position they were in would probably be hard to explain to Kevin when he regained control, might make things a bit awkward.

It gave a quiet chuckle. "Alright, I'll leave you two alone." It took its hands off of him, sparing him from having to explain that detail to Kevin. "Have fun." It gave him a small peck on the lips before finally exiting his friend's body.

He only had a few moments before Kevin woke up to process and think about what happened. That last action threw him for a loop, for good reason, there were multiple things wrong with what just transpired. Once he processed it though, he decided to not think about it, or at least try not to. It would just end up distracting him, flustering him and pissing him off. Observer had probably done that specifically to get to him, he didn't want to give it the exact reaction that it wanted.

Of course, just because he was trying not to think about it didn't mean it didn't decide to occupy his mind every chance it got, to the point where Kevin ended up asking what was bothering him. That of course only made it bug him even more, since that forced him to focus on directly for a few seconds, as long as it took to assure his friend that it was nothing.

As much as this incident was clearly bothering him, he felt like writing about it in his journal wasn't the best idea. He actually felt like the best course of action was keeping it to himself and never talking about it to anyone, and just letting it sit in the back of his mind until he was forced to address it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I've written teen Milo, something I added was disproved in canon, I wonder if this is gonna follow that trend


	23. Lover(CurSwain)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: hey maybe don't write so much about swain, a character we know basically nothing about who is basically guaranteed to have anything you write about him disproved  
> me @ me: lmao if u don't shut ur dumb ass up, it's time 4 a headcanon dump

There was a reason why Swain's title was The Lover. Like nearly every other Collective member, it was one he earned because of what his life before being assimilated was like. For example, Deadhead was the Nationalist because when he was alive he'd served his country, Scars was the Burdened because of all the hardships he'd faced in life, Firebrand was the Stubborn because he was a headstrong bitch.

Likewise, Swain was the Lover because of the love life he'd had when he was alive. He had a decent amount of failed relationships early in life, about the amount you'd expect a romantically active teenager and young adult to have at that point in time. Sometime later though, his luck ended up changing. He met a woman that ended up quite literally changing his life.

He couldn't remember very well how they'd met, it had been so long. That didn't matter though, what mattered was how utterly perfect she was.

He'd never met someone who he connected with quite so well before her. They'd hit it off almost immediately, which was a very rare thing for him, especially romantically.

After their first date they decided to spend more time together, they found out that they actually had a lot in common. It didn't take them very long at all to get closer. They became best friends first, and after that Swain fell, and he fell hard.

Everything about her was wonderful, there wasn't a single detail of hers that he didn't absolutely adore. Not only was she the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but her personality was flawless. Granted, he might have found her so beautiful partially because he liked the rest of her so much. Whatever the case was, he most definitely loved her. Hell, they even ended up getting married, which was the best choice of his life as far as he was concerned.

That made his assimilation that much worse. Once the Admin got to him and finally caught him, the two of them were torn apart. Not being able to see her was painful enough, but he could only imagine how bad it had been for her. From her perspective he'd just disappeared. She probably thought he was killed or captured by the allies or something, which wasn't actually too horribly far off from the truth. She must have had some hope that he'd be found or something, after months and years of waiting though, those were dashed, and she accepted that they'd never see each other again.

He'd experienced something similar to that, of course. Unlike her though, he hadn't gotten years or even months to accept it. The reality of the situation had been thrust upon him very quickly, almost immediately. Sure, it took a little while for it to quite hit him, but measured in actual time that while was probably only a few days at most. After that time, he had no choice but to accept that this was it, this was his life now. He was never going to see her again, and he was going to be stuck in what was essentially a hell dimension forever, forced to do the bidding of the exact being he'd spent so long trying to escape.

Needless to say, when it did hit him, he went through quite the crisis. If he had any choice in the matter, he probably wouldn't have made it through it. Unfortunately for him, the Admin wasn't just going to let him die, so he had no choice but to get over it. That didn't mean he was happy at all with it, but it wasn't like there was any other option.

After the horrid flood of emotions that was that mess, he decided that his best option was to do what he was brought here to do with minimal complaint, that way his situation would be ultimately less painful, at least. Sure, listening to that thing was emotionally and mentally the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn't want to risk whatever it would do to him if he didn't listen.

Apparently, this was a very good choice, and not just for self preservation reasons. As time went on, as expected, more people were forced into the Collective. He couldn't say he really cared for most of them, and some of them were god awful, but there was one that piqued his interest.

When he first saw Cursor, he was hit with a wave of feelings that he thought he'd successfully repressed long ago. She looked almost just her, his old lover that is. Aside from some obvious differences, like the tape over her eyes of course, and things like facial structure and such, the resemblance was actually uncanny.

Of course, he knew that this was pure coincidence, but that didn't make it any less jarring. After so long, seeing someone that seemed so like her was not something he'd been ready for.

Luckily it hadn't been nearly as bad as the initial breakdown he'd had upon first being assimilated, but it wasn't pretty.

Once he got past that though, he had to deal with the feelings he'd developed for the other member.

Part of him felt bad for them, since he didn't actually know anything about her and was just interested in her because she reminded him of his previous wife. That feeling never quite went away, even after their relationship progressed.

Surprisingly enough though, it hadn't progressed because of him. As tempted as he was, he hadn't been the one to initiate anything, it just hadn't felt right to try. Apparently though, she had been interested in him too, so he hadn't needed to.

Of course, at first they'd just been friends, they didn't jump into a relationship immediately. That didn't last too long though. She hadn't given them much time to just get to know each other before furthering things. He wasn't complaining about that though, clearly.

It felt nice to be in a relationship again. After so long of having nobody, it helped a lot. Whatever situation she'd been in before they got to together, she seemed to agree.

After getting to know her better, he found that she and his last lover had a lot of similarities, actually. Personality-wise, that is. It wasn't similar enough for them to seem like practically the same person, especially considering there were other traits she had that were glaringly different. Still, the similarities were comforting, and the differences weren't all that bad either, just took some getting used to.

She, of course, had her own set of issues, what Collective member didn't? They made her somewhat difficult at times, sometimes when things got really bad for her it was almost painfully so, but he couldn't fault her for that. He was sure that he was the same occasionally, he just had to do his best to help her through it when she got like that and appreciate the good times they had together. After all, she did the same for him, didn't she?

Just about all the other members hated her. He didn't really understand why, as far as he was concerned she was a great person. Well, maybe not the best, but she was good to him, and that's what mattered. He had a feeling most of them were blowing how bad she was out of proportion, exaggerating things. Anything she did to them they probably incited first anyway.

He was pretty sure he loved her, honestly. It was hard to admit that to himself, after spending so long yearning after someone else it was hard to fathom actually loving someone else. He was certain, though. She was amazing, she'd done so much for him, and probably didn't even know how much she helped. How could he not love her?

He wasn't sure if he was ready to admit it to her yet, but he was sure she didn't mind. She seemed very happy with their relationship, he could say it to her when he was ready.

For now, they could keep going on how they had been. It was getting them through this, keeping them relatively happy and sane, and that was what they really needed. Plus, they had all the time in the world to progress their relationship whenever they felt like it, it wasn't like they were going anywhere. They could take all the time they needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fun fact, I can't stand Cursor, so writing her from a positive perspective(Swain's) was pretty fucking difficult. It gave me a chance to write Swain though, which you know I can't pass up  
> Anyway I 100% stan whoever the fuck the lady Swain was married to before was, she's a real MVP  
> On another note, I still have no idea how to end chapters


	24. Deal(Firebrand X HABIT)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been actual years since I've done anything for this pairing, or for HABIT in general. I felt like I should fix that

When Firebrand and HABIT made their deal, the specifics on HABIT's end hadn't really been sorted out too much. He'd said that he'd help Firebrand, give the former Collective member some knowledge and help inform the being's past self of things, for a price. He didn't say what that price was, and at the time Firebrand hadn't cared all that much. He'd been in a hurry, he just wanted a way out and someone to help him, so he agreed to HABIT's terms without fully working things out.

When he actually had time to think about it, after he was out of immediate danger, he started to realize that was probably a bad idea. Actually, it was probably an absolutely horrendous idea. After all, he knew what HABIT was capable of, and the types of things he'd done in the past. He had no reason to assume whatever he'd agreed to wouldn't be something fucked up, something he would want no part of and would never agree to do if it weren't for the deal.

What was he supposed to do about it though? It was far too late to back out now. HABIT had already given his past self the information he needed, allowing him to safely escape, along with the other things he'd agreed to do. Not only would it not be fair for Firebrand to go back on his word, but it wasn't like he'd be allowed to anyway. If he tried, then HABIT would find a way to make him go through with it, and likely would make it significantly worse than it initially would have been.

So, that left him with only one real option. He had to hold up his end of the deal, do what he was told, and hope that it wasn't anything too bad.

On one hand, he did have hope that whatever he would end up having to do wouldn't be anything too horrible. After all, as bad as he felt thinking about it, HABIT had Vinny, who was doing a decent amount of dirty work. Surely, any horrendous thing the demon might want him to do would be something that he could pass on to the poor, trapped human.

On the other hand, he was kind of terrified. After all, HABIT was a sadistic fuck. He liked hurting people, it was a fun past time for him. So, there was a good chance that he would take no issue in causing Firebrand harm, both physically and mentally, as long as it didn't fuck up either of their plans. Hell, he probably didn't get to mess with beings like Firebrand too much, so he had very little reason not to do something awful.

Either way, Firebrand couldn't let himself be swayed. He was going to stick to this, no matter what ended up happening it wasn't like it was going to kill him. Still, it would be a lot less daunting if he actually knew what it was.

The thing is, he kind of expected HABIT to seek it on his own. He expected HABIT to be the one to go out of his way to approach him and make Firebrand fulfill his end of the deal.

In hindsight, it was kind of dumb to expect that. Of course it would be more fun for HABIT if he were the one being approached. It'd probably feel nice to have the rogue god crawling back to him to heed to his demands.

Once Firebrand realized this, he wasted no time in doing just that, although he liked to think that he did it with enough dignity that it didn't have to be described in such a lowly fashion.

When he did this, he made his way to HABIT's house first, since he honestly really hoped the entity was there and not somewhere else, like the Candleverse or some other similarly unnerving place. He knocked a couple times, and in response got nothing. Great. That was a bad sign, but Firebrand wasn't ready to leave just yet.

He could've easily just teleported in, but instead decided to turn the doorknob, probably because he wasn't really focused enough to think of doing the other option.

Shockingly enough, when he did this he was greeted with the door actually opening. He wasn't sure why the knowledge that HABIT didn't lock his doors was so surprising, although to be fair just about everything the other being did surprised him.

He entered cautiously, not sure what to expect. What he found was a bit underwhelming. As far as he could see, the place was empty. He didn't see a sign of the demon anywhere, and it was also near unnaturally quiet.

Of course, this didn't help the initial anxiety he'd had about coming here, but he chose to continue ignoring that in favor of getting this done.

He definitely didn't think about how potentially fucked he could be if HABIT got back to find him there as he began to search around. He also most definitely did not think about the possibility that coming in here uninvited might break their agreement, since he still didn't know what exactly was expected from him, as he kept a close eye out for the being he'd come here for.

Apparently he didn't have to look far. Once he got to one of the back rooms, he supposed what counted as this place's living room, there HABIT was. He was lounging in a chair, which was next to a TV, which was sitting on the ground and faintly playing something or other.

Firebrand tried to ignore the eeriness of that, and instead psyche himself up enough to alert the other to his presence.

Apparently, that wasn't necessary. HABIT's eyes snapped up to him on their own, and once he was spotted, the entity flashed a grin that was somewhere between friendly and intimidating. "Well hey there, buddy. I was wondering when you'd show up." His voice had that undertone to it that let Firebrand how that it was definitely HABIT.

"Well, you know, it has been a while." Responding was easier than he'd expected, the nerves weren't as prevalent as they'd been before. Perhaps that was because HABIT didn't seem upset like he'd expected. "You should know that your door was just kind of.. unlocked."

HABIT replied with a shrug. "Not really, it's just that you're not one of the things I'm keeping out, so you can open it whenever you want."

Ah. Firebrand wasn't sure if he completely understood how that worked, but he nodded anyway, it made enough sense.

"So, what brings you here?" HABIT raised an eyebrow, and probably would've tilted his head if it wasn't currently resting on one of his hands. "What's the occasion?"

And there was the nervousness from before. Not that he was going to let it show now, not right in front of the other entity. He took a breath before speaking. "Well, I was just wondering what I was gonna have to do for my end of our deal, you know?" He tried to sound as casual about it as he could, he thought he was doing an alright job. "I mean, you've done your part, and it doesn't seem right to not return the favor." That and he wasn't sure how brutally HABIT would treat someone who didn't return a favor to him.

"Oh yeah, that." The demon's grin widened a bit. "If I'm being completely honest, I sort of forgot about that." He took note of the bit of shock on the other's face before adding. "A lot has been going on, you know how it is, not hard to get distracted and all."

Firebrand offered another nod. "Yeah, I can get that." He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what exactly had been going on with the other, if he was being quite honest. Of course, he knew that this didn't mean he had to do nothing, it just apparently hadn't been decided what his debt was going to be. "If you don't have anything for me yet, I could come back later."

HABIT stood up and made his way over to the other entity. "No, I'm pretty sure I know what I want with you. You came at a pretty good time, actually."

Firebrand definitely wasn't startled by the other suddenly being so much closer to him. "Oh, well what do I need to do?" He hoped that it wouldn't be anything too drastic, but wasn't going to keep that hope too high.

"I think you'll like this." He offered a smirk before continuing. "You see, I had a plan before that I was gonna need you for anyway, but recently some of it fell apart, and that means we might have to work closer together on it than I expected."

"I see. That still doesn't tell me what to do." He tried not to sound too snarky when he said that.

"I'm getting to that, slow down." HABIT rested a hand on Firebrand's shoulder before continuing. "You see, I had been constructing a plan to take the big guy down."

Firebrand had to hold himself back from asking if he meant the Admin, because of fucking course it was the Admin he'd been referring to. He'd have to be some sort of idiot to not make the connection. "How were you planning on doing that?" He thankfully ended up asking a much less stupid question.

HABIT waved a hand dismissively, the one that wasn't currently in contact with the other entity. "Don't worry about that now, I have to revise most of it anyway." As if it wouldn't still be nice to know what the plan had been. "Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, maybe we could do some of the planning together."

Honestly, Firebrand couldn't really think of any downsides here, at least not any glaringly obvious ones. Sure, HABIT was unpleasant as hell to work with a lot of the time, but this sounded like a good idea. Besides, how could he say no to a direct offer to help take down the Admin?

Somewhere in his mind, he thought that there had to be some sort of catch to this, since there was no way HABIT would agree to something so mutually good. Although, he also felt like any catch to this would be worth it. After all, catch or not, this is still one of the most powerful beings he's met offering to help him take down what essentially was his worst enemy.

So, he couldn't hold back a smile as he finally gave a response. "You know, that actually doesn't sound bad. Sure, let's do it."

The hand that was on Firebrand's shoulder moved down to his back. "Nice, I figured you wouldn't refuse." The hand then moved to his side, to pull them closer together. "If we're gonna do this though, you should probably hear the old plan first, so we can work from there."

Ignoring the closeness, Firebrand nodded. That only seemed logical.

"We're probably gonna be here a while, so you might want to take a seat." HABIT let go of him to gesture towards the floor.

Well, beggars can't be choosers, so Firebrand wasn't going to complain. He did as he was told, took his seat and got ready to begin the planning process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more implied than actual shipping whoops, and barely any implication at that. In all fairness, it's been A While & I don't really remember how to write HABIT. Just.. assume that something actually did end up happening between them at some point, maybe HABIT stayed all up close & personal while they were planning & that lead to something


	25. Balance(Mr. Scars X Observer)

Mr. Scars and Observer absolutely hated each other, that's how it always had been, even before Scars was assimilated.

When you got down to it, their hatred was pretty valid too. Scars had to deal with Observer's shit from a young age, and even after he was forced into the Collective he had to watch his cousin get tormented by the entity. And Observer, as far as he was concerned, when Scars was alive he'd only had one job, which was to get the journal, and he couldn't even do that despite all the chances he'd had. Plus, their personalities just naturally conflicted, so even without all of that they would most certainly still find each other annoying at the very least.

Needless to say, this hatred caused a good deal of conflict between them. They couldn't be in each other's vicinity without getting mad over something. Most of the time, that something was serious. It was over one of the things that caused their hatred to grow so strong in the first place, something personal to one of them.

Sometimes, these confrontations got violent too. Not dangerously so, they didn't want each dead surprisingly enough, but violent enough to leave a few marks. Sometimes Scars would take a swing at Observer, and sometimes Observer in turn would lunge for Scars' throat. That sort of thing.

As often as they got into it, it wasn't too surprising that not all of their disputes were over completely serious things. Yes, a lot of the time their fights would be started over Observer mocking Scars' cousin, or Scars shit talking the Admin, but not all of them were like that.

That being said, some of their fights were caused by things that could only be described as utterly moronic. There were plenty of times where they decided to fight over the most completely stupid things.

More than once they'd started arguing over their height, this was actually a rather common thing. Scars would mock Observer for being short, Observer would take the bait, and they'd spend a few minutes teasing each other before Observer stood on his toes to choke Scars.

Even worse, sometimes Observer would decide to bother Scars by doing the whole 'i'm not touching you' routine. He'd hover his hand perilously close to the other member, while stating in that obnoxious voice of his that they weren't touching. Of course, this pissed Scars off, and after usually not even a minute of it he retaliated by either pushing Observer away or grabbing his wrist to stop him. From that point, Observer's laughter at his reaction would be enough to set him off.

Observer also occasionally liked to play 'i know you are but what am i'. He'd get Scars annoyed enough to insult him, and then just say that sentence. Scars would take the obvious bait and start throwing in more insults, only to get the same response. This would go on until he told the shadowy entity to shut his fucking mouth, to which Observer would respond with 'no you' or something to that effect.

The point is, sometimes their fights held a startling resemblance to ones you'd see toddlers having. Of course, they both recognized how childish these disputes were, but were they going to do anything to stop them? Certainly not.

Quite honestly, being able to fight over such minuscule things had some charm to it. It was something they sort of enjoyed, in a way. Sure, getting into seriously heated fights was an option, but it wasn't something they could do often, or really wanted to. A little bit of genuine malice in their quarrels did help spice things up, but too much was really emotionally draining. There was a huge difference between being mad because someone can't keep their mouth shut, and legitimately not being able to stand someone because you're constantly reminding yourself of the fact that they've caused you actual anguish before and that they're against everything you stand for.

Letting things get too hateful just wasn't healthy. In these types of relationships, your hatred for each other shouldn't cause legitimate agony or misery, causing lasting emotional or mental damage wasn't the goal. This was supposed to be a sort of rivalry, after all, and rivalries couldn't flourish if too much damage was caused. There's a hard line between healthy mutual hatred and just wanting each other to suffer.

The two of them worked pretty hard on not crossing that line, they knew their boundaries and made sure not to cross them. The boundaries were pretty simple, don't take advantage of past trauma or use said trauma in fights, and no causing serious lasting injury to one another. Aside from those, the rest of the rules were general things that you'd expect in any relationship, romantic or otherwise. Things like 'treat each other with respect' or 'stop means stop', entry level things really.

Sometimes they'd slip up and end up going a bit too far. Observer would make a comment about Scars' old home life that ended up being way too harsh, or Scars would forget his own strength and end up striking Observer hard enough to cause serious pain. They minimized the chances as much as they could, but sometimes these things happened. Whenever they did, the two of them tried to handle it maturely as to not make things worse, tried to mend the situation and such.

For the most part though, they had things under control. They knew what they were doing, and they knew each other well enough that fuck-ups were rather rare. All things considered, they had this down pretty well.

They were actually doing better than expected, technically. Relationships that were built off of hate, or pitch relationships, were hard to pull off successfully, especially when one or both parties were inexperienced with relationships in general, which they both were.

They made it work though, and in a way they was mutually beneficial too. Neither of them had very many sources for social interaction, so this gave them that. They also got some romantic experience out of it, albeit an extremely specific type of romantic, but still. Plus, this gave them both a way to vent out some of their anger in a non-destructive way, which was most definitely needed.

All of this considered, they were either extremely lucky, or this type of relationship was meant for them. Either way, they certainly weren't complaining, that was for damn sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be just "lmao these two probably fight over the dumbest shit", I didn't intend to actually get serious with it. I'm kinda happy w/ it though, not gonna lie  
> It's also honestly been way too long since I've produced any Pitch Rooks, missed these guys


	26. Support(Deadhead X Mr Scars)

Mr. Scars had a lot of issues, with everything he'd dealt with in his life it would be a surprise if he didn't. Nearly all his problems stemmed from his dangerous self destructiveness, which in turn stemmed from the myriad of ways his mental and emotional state had been fucked up in life.

It wasn't bad enough to stop him from functioning, at least most of the time. He knew how to ignore and push back his own feelings in favor of functionality, he needed to do it back when he was alive, after all. Still, that didn't make it easy given his situation, and he could only do that for so long before it caught up with him.

When it did and when he couldn't do it anymore, not only did functioning become damn near impossible, but it took a tremendous effort not to rip his throat back open and let himself bleed out. He usually staved off this urge by cutting open various other parts of his body, mainly his limbs.

Needless to say, that was a very bad way of handling things. In fact, it was very risky and could easily lead to his death if he wasn't careful. Of course, he knew this, he'd have to be an idiot to not. That didn't mean there was much he could do about it though, not really. Sure, there were many recommended alternatives, but it wasn't like he hadn't tried them. Even if any of them worked for him, they were exceedingly hard to do in his situation. And therapy wasn't an option, how was he even supposed to access that type of shit in the Collective realm? He couldn't, it was impossible, and it wasn't like that had ever helped him when he was alive anyway.

For a while, he'd been perfectly content scraping by like this. Sure, in the long run it was detrimental to his health and just ended up hurting him, but in the moment it helped, and that was what mattered. He never really considered any alternatives, this was just fine.

That was where Deadhead came in. When the two of them started getting close, he was terribly concerned for Scars' well-being. He'd known that the way the other treated himself and handled things was bad, but it took him a while to see the full extent of things. Once he did, he was absolutely horrified. He tried to help in any way he knew how, which was mostly just small things. Things like listening to his problems, being supportive, and trying to take up his time when things got especially bad, to try and prevent him from causing lasting damage to himself.

At first this effort was faulty, of course. It took them a while to figure out what worked and what didn't. This wasn't made any easier by the way Scars was in general. He tended to be overly aggressive to outside help, things that challenged his way of doing things. He just didn't like people telling him what to do, even if those things were overall beneficial to him.

After a while though, they did find out what worked and what could reasonably be done, and when they did it turned out to help a lot more than Scars expected. Hell, more than either of them expected, really.

For example, one thing Scars did to cope when things got bad was isolation. Whenever he did isolate himself, he also more often than not ended up harming himself in some way. Once Deadhead figured this out, he knew to not only check up on the other member regularly, but especially when they hadn't seen each other for a while. He tried his best to do so in a way that didn't invade Scars' privacy or intrude on his personal space too much, since doing those things would only serve to make his condition worse.

Another thing about Scars was that he almost never actually talked about his problems, likely because back when he was still alive whenever he did this it was brushed off as him just being dramatic or making things up. So naturally, Deadhead tried his best to get Scars to trust him enough to actually talk about these things. After all, talking did seem to help, definitely a hell of a lot more than just holding them in. He didn't try to rush or force the other in this process, just let him know that he could be reliable trustworthy with these sort of things.

These two things, plus the things Deadhead was doing to help Scars' countless other issues, ended up helping quite a bit. Did it fix everything? Fuck no, Deadhead wasn't some kind of miracle worker, but they could both agreed that it was much better than leaving Scars to try and take care of these things himself.

All of this being said, Deadhead also sometimes required Scars' help. Not nearly as often, in fact a majority of the time it was only about once a year, but it was still certainly needed.

You see, Deadhead's problems only tended to arise at a specific time each year, around a specific date too. This was, of course, because the date held significance to him, it was important to him. This date was none other than April Twentieth.

Due to what that date signified for Deadhead, most people didn't feel very much, if any, sympathy for him, and the ones that did couldn't always be there for him on that exact day.

Scars though, he didn't really do much around the Collective realm, a majority of the things he had to do were things he'd gotten done a while back, so he was nearly always available.

You still wouldn't think he'd be too keen on helping Deadhead through this, considering his family history and the meaning of the date to the other. Surprisingly enough, you'd be wrong in thinking this. Sure, at first Scars wasn't exactly all that comfortable helping someone mourn the death of literally Hitler, but that didn't stop him from feeling bad for Deadhead. He may have vehemently disagreed with the act of mourning and yearning for someone like that, but this was still very clearly something that very negatively impacted his friend. Plus, after everything Deadhead had done for him, it wouldn't be fair if he refused to help, now would it?

The fact that he wasn't good at comforting people in general didn't make this any easier for him, but with each passing year, he got a little bit better at it. Deadhead would be more receptive to his efforts, less cold and unresponsive. Shit, Scars even got him to laugh a couple times once.

That, and the more they went through this routine, the more comfortable Scars got with it, which in turn let him be better at it. For example, the first year they did this all he'd really been able to bring himself to do was be there, but after a few more times he was relaxed enough to actually engage in things.

One time the two of them actually read Mein Kampf together, or more accurately Deadhead was reading it aloud and Scars was listening despite not understanding a word, but still. That had been surprisingly enjoyable, and the way Deadhead's eyes lit up as they did this made it more than worth it.

Considering how bad things could get around that time, Scars was actually kind of proud of himself, he was probably helping more with this than he'd done with anything else in his life.

For perspective, Deadhead on four twenty was like Scars on an average day, at best. According to Swain, there had been times where Deadhead absolutely needed to be under constant watch, as he could get just as self destructive as Scars. Combine this with the amount of guns he owned and it was very clear that leaving him alone was an awful idea.

He did a lot better with others around though, they could help give him something else to focus on.

In a way, he and Scars were similar in that regard. Although, with Scars it was a much more constant thing rather than an annual thing.

Either way, the support they got for each other did wonders. In fact, they weren't quite sure what they'd do without each other. Sure, they could probably get by, but they definitely wouldn't be doing well. Their conditions would be much worse, and there would be a lot more attempts on their own lives. Overall, they were much happier with each other than without.

They didn't have many other, if any, sources of help. So, having each other was pretty damn important, and extremely appreciated. They expressed their appreciation and made it up to each other by continuing to do their thing, assist each other when they were needed, and keep being friends to each other. It was all they really could do, or ask the other to do. They could manage that, and they were more than happy with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about how I wasn't too crazy about my other 4/20 project and this idea came to me literally an hour before 4/20 struck. Not sure if I like the ending but,,, it is what it is, and the rest is solid


	27. Loathing(HABIT X Patrick)

Patrick had never been a huge fan of HABIT. Even before the other demon had done anything to really affect him, he just hadn't been too fond of him. That wasn't to say that he hated HABIT, at least not at first, he just could never find much reason to like the other entity.

That didn't mean those feelings were mutual though. They'd known each other for a while, longer than any of the other people Patrick knew had been around, and throughout all the years HABIT seemed to interpret their relationship as friendship. Close friendship too, on the occasions that they did see each other that is. For a while, Patrick was fine with that. It was annoying, sure, but it could be worse. HABIT, surprisingly enough, wasn't the most aggravating person he'd ever met, and sometimes he was actually somewhat enjoyable to be around. They had a few similarities that made things easier. Things in common that they could discuss, and perhaps bond over.

Well, bond probably wasn't the right term, bonding would require mutual effort, which Patrick usually couldn't be bothered to give. They did get to know each other though, which did help the visits become more tolerable.

For a while things were fine between them, no major problems or anything. It would have been nice if it had stayed that way, and who knows, maybe they could have actually become friends at some point. Unfortunately, any progress that had been made in their relationship had been completely ruined when HABIT decided that he couldn't just mind his own business.

You see, Patrick had to deal with the tall man, or the Administrator, or any other name it had. This was common knowledge to anyone who knew him, that thing was attracted to him like moths to a flame, and it was fucking his life up. It was also fucking up the lives of anyone he happened to be around. All things considered, it was a huge problem.

He'd been trying to get rid of it himself, find a way to either get it to leave him alone or to somehow kill it. He hadn't been having too much luck, the plans he kept making to do things that he thought would improve the situation kept getting ruined by something, but he really was trying. For a short while it also seemed like he, as well as Michael and Shaun, were making progress too. It wasn't fast progress, but it was progress. It seemed like they'd found something that was actually working.

Of course, they couldn't have that, so HABIT decided to meddle. At first it wasn't anything too serious. He fucked around with Stormy's body, at one point left it in Shaun's trunk for he and Michael to find. That was a bump in the road, but it was manageable, it didn't stop them from doing what they were doing.

However, it is a well known fact that when HABIT wants to fuck with someone, he doesn't half-ass it. If he does something to you that is mildly horrifying, then next thing you know he'll do something ten times worse.

So it was no surprise when the son of a bitch went and killed Shaun.

Okay, it was actually very surprising. It shouldn't have been, but it was.

More than that though, it was also infuriating. There were things HABIT did that angered him, but this was something else entirely.

He'd needed Shaun for his plans, Michael's brother was the main reason any progress had been made in the first place. He'd been the one most set on finding the clock's arms, which was their best bet for beating that thing.

Not only that, but he was the only thing left that had been keeping Michael stable, as well as the last person in Michael's life period.

This created a whole new host of issues for Patrick, ones that he quite honestly had no idea how to fix. After all, he couldn't do this alone. Of course, you could argue that as long as Michael was alive he wasn't really alone, but that was different. They shared the same body, so physically they were the same person, technically. He needed more people if he was going to get anything done, and now thanks to the other demon, he was left with no one.

As if that wasn't enough, HABIT didn't seem to get why this pissed him off so much. Not only did he not get it, but he seemed to find it funny too.

He seemed to take an almost perverse pleasure in seeing the way Patrick's mood shifted when the subject was brought up, so much that when they were around each other he'd regularly tease him about it.

When Patrick got defensive and upset about it, he'd wave it off with 'it's not that bad' or 'you didn't need him' or something similar. Sometimes he'd even try to claim that what he did was an attempt to help, that Shaun had only been holding them back and that Patrick would be able to work easier now without him. Any attempts to explain why this was incorrect were met with laughter, as well as implications that Patrick was somehow stupid or inferior for not being able to work around what had been done.

It got to the point where he couldn't even stand being around HABIT anymore. The other entity's presence became a promise of negativity and discomfort, and he really didn't want to deal with it.

Did this mean he'd get a break? Obviously not. His attempts to avoid HABIT just made the fucker show up that much more often.

The fact that he still tried to act all buddy-buddy when he showed up didn't help things either. Patrick would make it pretty obvious that he wasn't happy with the other being there, and even if he didn't he was sure it would be noticed anyway. HABIT took note of this, and instead of leaving him alone in any capacity, just got more friendly.

It was bearable at first, it didn't start off too bad, at least by HABIT standards. He'd act the same as usual, which was just showing up and attempting casual banter, which ended up being more malicious than banter should've been. As annoying as this was, it was at least tolerable. At least enough so that it wasn't worth making a huge deal about, knowing what type of reaction might be gotten if Patrick did decide to lash out.

Apparently though, HABIT didn't like the lack of reaction this got him. He wasn't a big fan of how when he'd toss out a vicious statement about the guy he killed, thinly veiled by humor, the person he directed it at hardly paid him any mind. The most he'd get from Patrick would be an angry glare or an 'if you say so' or something along those lines. Most of the time he wouldn't even throw an insult back or anything, despite how obvious it was that he wanted to.

This wouldn't do, not at all. He clearly needed to step up his game if he wanted to get his desired reactions from Patrick.

So, he did just that. First he adjusted his taunting approach. Instead of just occasionally saying mean things about Michael's brother, he started openly talking about the ways that he'd killed him. Casually saying things like 'did you know that the chainsaw i used is named rex' or 'he screamed more than jeff which was pretty funny'.

On top of this, he started making more physical contact. Nothing major, as far as he was concerned. Things like wrapping an arm around Patrick's shoulders, which he needed to almost stand on his toes to do, or looping their arms together. You know, nothing too bad.

These two things together were not well received by Patrick at all, which luckily was the goal. The change in his reactions weren't immediate, for a while he kept trying to continue mostly ignoring HABIT. He knew that this was a losing battle, and eventually he'd give in and retaliate, but he wanted to postpone that for as long as he could.

As it turns out, 'as long as he could' wasn't really that long. The things HABIT was doing were taking their toll on him. If he was having trouble trying to fix his situation before, it was nearly impossible now. All interactions with HABIT left him seething, even after the other left, which made it immensely difficult to focus on trying to get anything done.

He wasn't sure how long it exactly took, he wasn't the best with measuring time, but it felt like no time at all when he did finally snap. At some point the things he'd been holding back from saying, both because he didn't want to give the satisfaction of a reaction and because he might have been a little worried about what would happen if he angered the other, all boiled over at once.

He went off about how HABIT needed to back the fuck off, how he was just making everything worse and how everything would be much easier if he wasn't around.

He didn't get too far into this before he was interrupted. What interrupted him was, of course, HABIT's snickering.

As expected, this just angered him further. He should have expected it, but he still could not believe HABIT had the audacity to laugh right in his face before he could even finish his ranting.

Okay, he could believe it actually, which made it that much worse. Of course he'd do this, it was just like him. What else was to be expected of him, really?

This ended up launching Pat into another tirade. He started berating HABIT, pointing out everything the other had been doing that had been making things more difficult, going on about how HABIT had basically ruined everything for him. By the time he was done he was practically foaming at the mouth, and even then he could still feel the rage coursing through him.

HABIT, however, didn't look fazed one bit. He had a snide grin and was looking up at Patrick with an almost relaxed expression. "Are you done?" He casually questioned, resting a hand on the taller entity's shoulder.

Patrick wanted to pull away, and tried to a little bit, but it seemed that wasn't going to get him any results. He let out a groan of frustration, which was very close to being a growl.

"There, there." HABIT spoke it a highly patronizing way, moving his other hand to the side of Pat's face.

Patrick moved his hands to HABIT's shoulders. He was going to attempt to push the other demon away, but it occurred to him that this likely wouldn't work. So he was just left with his hands resting there, digging in a bit as he tried to calm himself down.

"Listen, I get it, it's hard." The shit-eating grin on his face made the almost comforting tone of his voice lose all effect. "You're lost, you don't know how to fix things, and you're too focused on the little things to realize how much better of a situation you're in now."

This time Pat really did growl. "How is my situation any better? I was so fucking close and you just-"

He was interrupted by HABIT shushing him and grazing a finger over his lips. "Yeah, I know, I ruined your mediocre plan that probably wasn't gonna work anyway."

"Well what other options did I-"

He was cut off again, by the same thing, but more forceful this time. "I can't just tell you, you should've figured it out by now."

He was at a loss as to how he was supposed to do that. He'd been trying to find other options for ages now, and nothing seemed to work. There was only one thing he could think of that he hadn't tried that wasn't utterly ridiculous, but he really didn't like the thought of it. "You're not implying that I go to you for help, are you?" He asked, after moving HABIT's hand out of his face.

The grin on the demon in question told all that he needed to know.

He just sighed in response. "Name one reason why I should do that."

It seemed HABIT was prepared for this question, since he answered rather quickly. "Well, we both want the same thing, don't we?" It was a rhetorical question, but he still paused for a moment after asking it. "I mean, we both just want to get rid of the big guy, and at the moment we're after the same things to try and make it happen."

Patrick couldn't be bothered to vocally question this, but he gave HABIT an irritated, questioning look.

HABIT seemed more than happy to answer him. "You see, we both want the clock hands, we both know how important they are to our goal." His tone seemed more legitimate now, it didn't have the feeling of superiority as before. Well, it did, but it wasn't as prominent. "So logically, instead of fighting over them, it would make a lot more sense to work together to find them, right?"

Pat let out another sigh. "Yeah, when you put it like that." As much as he hated to admit it, HABIT was right. Quarreling and looking for the hands separately, and fighting over them when they were found, would be really fucking dumb. If they both wanted them for the same reason, then why do anything but work together? Doing anything else would just make things needlessly difficult for the both of them, and would take up much more time than they needed.

He didn't want to work with HABIT though. The other entity was an obnoxious, horrible asshole. Sure, he couldn't claim that he was much better, but he had to be at least a few steps up in both morality and how tolerable he was.

It didn't seem like he had much choice though. The other demon was looking at him expectantly, and he had a feeling that even if he answered no that HABIT wouldn't accept that.

So, he pushed aside his negative feelings the best he could before answering. "So, I guess that's what we're going to do?"

"Now that's more like it." He moved his hand back to Pat's face, giving it a small tap. "I promise, you're not gonna regret this."

Patrick felt like that was completely wrong, he was kind of already regretting it, but he wasn't about to complain. This was seemingly the best option for him, he didn't really have much room for complaint.

Besides, aside from his whole general attitude, HABIT seemed like he could be helpful. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, maybe this would work out better than Pat was expecting, who knew?

He just had to deal with all of HABIT's bad qualities and antagonizing actions to find out. Easier said than done, but he could manage it. They'd put up with each other so far, after all. If he was lucky, maybe now that they were officially working together, being around HABIT would be easier. And if not, then eventually there would be a point where they didn't have to deal with each other anymore, so he could look forward to that.

Either way, his situation was technically looking up, so he supposed he couldn't be too upset with this outcome. Maybe he should've even been grateful for it in a way, as difficult as that was. Despite how easy it would've been for HABIT to leave him alone to struggle with figuring things out himself, he was offered help. It was probably for some sort of price, HABIT didn't do these sort of things without a catch, but it was certainly better than nothing. As much as he didn't like it, it was preferable to his previous situation.

So, when he was led to the other entity's house to rest up, after being told that he looked like shit, he didn't complain or try to argue. For a moment he questioned why he was brought there, but he supposed it made sense that if they were working together they could live together too, at least temporarily.

HABIT's place was messy, but better than his own, so again, he couldn't complain. In fact, if this was the treatment he was going to get now that they were allies, he could certainly get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewatched MLAndersen the day before writing this b/c it occurred to me that I knew jack shit about Patrick. I still feel like I didn't get either of them right, but I feel like it'd be a crime to not have at least one chapter for these two  
> Tbh at first I was just gonna have it be full pitch, but it kinda calmed down at the end. Not complaining though, it works


	28. Past(Jay X Alex)

Alex hadn't always been so bad. There was a time where he was actually enjoyable to be around, when he was someone you'd actually want to spend time with. After all, why would he and Jay have become friends at all if this wasn't the case?

That was a long time ago, though. Back when they were all still in college, before everything started changing and getting worse. Back then, the two of them had actually been pretty close. It might not have been a stretch to say that they were each other's best friends at this point in time. Sure, they knew other people and of course they had other friends, but they just had a certain bond.

Maybe it was because they'd known each other the longest, longer than they'd known their other friends. Or, maybe it was because they just naturally clicked that well. They didn't know, and they didn't really care. In fact, the question never even crossed their minds.

These were much simpler times, back when their biggest worry was completing school and eventually finding a job. Before they had to deal with being hunted by that thing. Before Alex even started working on that damned student film, which seemed to be when everything started going bad. Back when things were still relatively calm.

It had been pretty nice. They spent plenty of time together, when they got the chance. A lot of the time one of them would spend the day in the other's dorm, sometimes they'd spend the night together too if their schedules would allow it.

Their time spent together usually didn't consist of anything too special, they did just about what you'd expect, which normally wasn't much. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing though, they enjoyed themselves.

Although they were both majoring in different things, sometimes they'd help each other with assignments and projects. When they worked together like this they tended to get distracted easily, which resulted in what they were doing taking longer to get done, but that wasn't a problem. It was a lot easier working this way, less stressful.

They also occasionally went out when they got the time. They usually didn't do too much when they did this though, just get lunch together and do any catching up that they needed to, which almost always wasn't much.

When they weren't doing one of these two things, they were usually just relaxing at one of their places.

When they did this, it was usually pretty uneventful, but still enjoyable. The keyword here was usually, sometimes unexpected and unplanned things did happen. This normally wasn't a problem for them, a change of pace was nice actually. Welcomed even.

Some unplanned incidents were more welcomed than others, of course. For example, if one of them were to have a family emergency, that would most certainly not be enjoyable. However, shockingly enough, most things that happened to them more surprisingly like this were actually pleasant.

When it came to unexpected happenings while they were together though, there was one thing that stood out compared to everything else, something that was better than most of the other things in this category.

It had happened, as was previously stated, while they were spending some free time together. They had been at Alex's place. This had been the first time in a short while that they'd been able to really be together, the past week had been fairly busy for them, and they knew that they'd at least be able to have the whole night together. Needless to say, they were very happy about this.

They had something somewhat special planned for this night. It wasn't actually special or all that out of the ordinary, but it was special enough that they had been excited about it for a while.

The two of them had decided when they noticed how busy they'd be, that the next time they got together they would stay up and have a movie marathon. Earlier that day they'd went to pick some things out and they fully intended to get through all of them before separating again.

They'd started with something Alex picked out, that had seemed fair considering they were doing this at his place and all. It was some sort of drama, really cheesy, and honestly not that good. He was into it though, and Jay did find it entertaining, so it wasn't like he was going to complain. Sure, he might chuckle a little to himself at some points, but he wasn't going to be rude about it.

Jay's first pick was a comedy, which was a nice contrast to what they had just watched. Alex's sense of humor wasn't really the same as Jay's, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it, it had its moments.

This went on for a few hours, some of the things they'd picked were better than others. When they could both agree that one of the movies was garbage, they would finish it anyway and just spend the whole time making fun of it. Occasionally they'd poke fun at each other's picks too, Jay would point out that something was completely unrealistic, Alex would groan and give Jay a 'really?' after something particularly cringe-worthy. It was all in good fun, and was honestly part of what made this so fun.

After a while things calmed down. They weren't sure how long they were at this, a few hours for sure, but after a handful of movies they started to lose steam. Apparently, they weren't actually all that good at pulling all-nighters.

They tried to keep going though, of course, since they had no idea when to quit. They did make it through a good few of the things they'd chosen though, surprisingly enough. They were about halfway through their list, which was farther than they'd expected to get.

They were sitting closer together than when they'd first started, but hey, sometimes those sort of things just happened. It wasn't like they had been sitting that far apart in the first place.

Now though, they were sitting close enough to lean on each other. Jay was taking full advantage of this, resting his head on Alex's shoulder.

They didn't talk much through the one they were on, aside from a few offhand comments. Things like 'i think this is the best one you chose so far' from Jay and 'yeah, as if the ones you had us watch were any better' in return from Alex. Aside from that, they were pretty much silent and enjoyed the show.

"Hey, I think it's your turn." Alex spoke up after the one they were on finished. After getting no response, he nudged the other. After that got no reaction, he looked over to see that Jay was, in fact, asleep.

For a moment, the thought of 'holy shit he fell asleep on me' passed his head and he was a slight bit flustered. That passed pretty quickly though. After that, he briefly considered waking his friend so that one of them could take the bed. He decided against that though, since it'd probably be rude to disturb him while he was sleeping.

So, he decided that the best course of action would be to not move at all, or at least as little as he could. After adjusting himself so that he was resting on the arm of the couch, he put this plan into effect.

It didn't take him long to fall asleep too. Admittedly, this wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep, but there was no way he was going to risk waking the other up.

When they woke up the next day, it was a lot less awkward than expected. They actually ended up staying huddled like that together for a little while, until one of them absolutely had to get up. It was pretty nice, and they ended up deciding that maybe they should be that close more often. After a few more times, the maybe in that statement went away and this ended up being a sure thing.

Eventually, they started sleeping snuggled up like that just about every time they spent the night together. As far as they were concerned, it was pretty great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been like 20 years since I've written anything Marble Hornets related so I know I'm rusty as hell, I apologize  
> Didn't initially plan on writing this, but someone requested it, and I've always had kind of a soft spot for this ship, so,,,


	29. Pity(Firebrand X Observer)

Firebrand, when he could, spent his nights guarding the house of his past self. He didn't get the chance as often as he'd like, quite honestly. He had a lot on his plate, and even though he was experienced with time, it was hard for him to make enough of it to do this. This was more of a thing he did when he didn't have any more work to attend to. When every other urgent thing that he could reasonably do was done, he'd stop by his old place to make sure his past self was safe.

Sure, you could argue that he should spend his time off resting. That would help him preserve strength for future tasks, which would likely give him a better chance at succeeding.

The problem with that was how hard it was for him to rest. Both because he often didn't feel safe enough to let his guard down and rest properly, and because part of him felt wrong when he wasn't doing something. So, between his fear that any moment spent not being vigilant would result in the Admin finding him, and the guilt he felt when he was doing nothing, he really didn't sleep much.

It also only felt fair that he spent his equivalent of free time making sure his past self was safe. After all, unlike him Noah had no way of defending himself if something were to get in the place, the only thing his past self could really do was run. Since that seemed very likely to go wrong, and Firebrand could surely fend off any Collective members if he needed, this just made sense.

It was a good thing he chose to do this too, since he wasn't the only one who liked showing up at Noah's house.

Observer also happened to drop in every once and a while. Sometimes he'd just watch, patiently and quietly, and Noah wouldn't even notice he was there. Other times, when he felt like having a bit of fun, he'd cause a ruckus and get Noah all wound up. 

He could say that he just did these things because his job demanded it, because the Keeper had told him to. That would be a lie though. Sure, that was why he started and still part of the reason, but he did genuinely enjoy doing this.

How could he not? Seeing Noah get completely scared out of his mind, or pissed off to the point where it seemed like he might start breaking things, was absolutely hilarious. Hell, even when he was numb from everything that had happened to him, it was still decent entertainment.

On this particular night, Observer was here for that entertainment. Technically he hadn't needed to come here, he hadn't been told specifically to do so, but this was the place he defaulted to when he either wasn't supposed to be or didn't want to be in the Collective realm.

Right now his situation was a mix of both, the Keeper had told him to make himself useful and he really didn't feel like doing so back home. Even the minuscule amount of other people that could potentially bother him felt like far too much, and he was admittedly extremely stressed. So he figured, what better way to relieve that stress than to mess with Noah? He'd be taking care of two things at once.

What he hadn't counted on was that on this particular night there would be more than one Noah.

Firebrand also hadn't counted on actually seeing the Collective member. Sure, they'd encountered each other in the past, a few times even at Noah's house. Still, their meetings were few and far between enough that they always managed to be a surprise.

At first they didn't exactly notice each other. Firebrand was staying in Noah's room, making sure nothing got in and interrupted his past self's restless sleep. Since theoretically, threats could come in from anywhere, he figured the best place to be was right by what they'd be after.

Observer had entered the home without checking to see who exactly was there. He saw no reason to, just about every other time he came here it was just Noah, so he didn't see any reason to waste time checking to see if this time was like that too.

When Observer first arrived he was tempted to just go straight to Noah's room, but quickly decided against that. If his current victim was sleeping, then he'd have to go out of the way to wake him up, and as fun as it might have been to see a delirious Noah Maxwell cowering under the covers, or better yet jumping straight out of bed to try and take the intruder on, Observer had different plans for tonight.

He decided that he was going to make noises in other areas of the house, to lure the other man out. Something about that just seemed more appealing. Maybe it was the thought of Noah spotting him and charging at him like a raging bull, or at least being conscious enough to dish out some decent threats.

That's about what he expected with this plan, at least. Unfortunately, things didn't quite end up that way.

Firebrand had finished pacing around the room for at least the hundredth time that night, stopping to gaze out the window for a moment before glancing back at Noah's sleeping form. He was going to think about how nice it was that his past self finally got some sleep, but before that train of thought could begin he started hearing noises from elsewhere.

Needless to say, these got his full attention. For the most part, it just sounded like walking, along with the occasional opening and closing of a door.

If he weren't there for the specific goal of guarding the place, and if he had somehow forgotten the potential danger that could get inside, he probably would have written this off, or at least have proceeded with less caution.

He wasn't an idiot though, and he knew full well what this meant, and as he exited the bedroom as silently as he could he just hoped that it was something or someone he wouldn't have too much trouble fending off.

He wasn't surprised when he spotted the Collective member, who seemed to be rifling through Noah's things. He didn't seem to be really looking for anything, scattering whatever he did find. He was clearly just doing this to be a nuisance and draw attention to himself.

No problem, Firebrand had fended Observer off before. He was sure that he wouldn't have much difficulty this time.

He made his way to the doorway of the room Observer was currently trashing, which happened to be the kitchen. He cleared his throat to announce his presence, looking on with a less than impressed expression.

Observer's reaction was...unexpected. While he'd normally briefly pause what he was doing to greet whoever encountered him with an obnoxious grin, this time he froze, dropping the item he'd been holding, which had been a few pieces of silverware. When he spun around to see who was there, he looked surprised for a moment. The shock was gone quickly though, replaced with a look of anger.

After looking back in the direction of the bedroom, hoping that the noise hadn't disturbed his past self's sleep, he met Observer's gaze. "You should really be more careful, unless you want to break something." He scolded, as if that was the biggest problem with this situation.

"I'm not going to clean it, so why should I care?" Observer responded before going back to what he was doing. This time he was purposely being much louder than before, grabbing silverware by the handful and dropping it all at once.

Firebrand suppressed a flinch at the absurdly loud clattering. "You know some people are trying to sleep."

Observer just shrugged, shutting the drawer he had been emptying. Whether he had successfully gotten everything out or just gotten bored was unclear. It didn't matter too much anyway. He moved on to a different drawer, this one holding dishes.

Oh hell no. Firebrand had been patient so far, mostly because he was under the impression that this wouldn't be much of a problem, but he wasn't going to stand and watch as this shadowy fuck broke their shit.

Before Observer could even get a hold of anything, his wrist was grabbed and harshly tugged away.

Another unexpected reaction was gotten from Observer. He'd usually just get pissed off and try fighting his way out of anyone's hold on him, or warp his way out of their grasp and keep doing what he was doing with more spite. This time he let out a surprised, and perhaps somewhat pained, yelp and instinctively pulled away.

Firebrand hadn't planned on letting go, but this startled him enough to do so, as well as back up a step or two. When he did, Observer stumbled, barely managing to catch himself from falling.

The taller of the two pushed away his urge to ask if the other was alright, instead just giving a confused look.

That's when it occurred to him that Observer had been acting odd the whole time. He'd been vaguely aware of it before, but hadn't bothered thinking about it, figuring that the other had just had a long day or something. Now that he was thinking about it though, it was really odd.

Even on bad days Observer was loud and obnoxious, which he was kind of being now, but this was different. This was a more passive aggressive sort of annoying, rather than his usual boisterous, energetic obnoxiousness.

Not that Firebrand was worried or anything, Observer's well being didn't matter to him, he was just curious. Obviously something was up.

The Collective member wasn't the only observant one, so it didn't really take Firebrand long to figure out what exactly that something was.

He took notice of the wrist that he'd grabbed before, which was now being cradled close to Observer. The flesh there, and along a lot of Observer's arm actually, was raised, almost as if it had been burned.

He hadn't noticed it before, but it also was quite evident that Observer was heavily favoring one leg over the other. He couldn't tell if the one that wasn't being leaned on was broken or if it had gotten the same burn treatment as Observer's arm, but he supposed that didn't matter, since whichever one it was the result was the same.

Aside from Observer's radically different mood, there weren't any other explicit tells, but Firebrand just knew that there were more injuries than just those two. Of course, he knew what had caused them, even if he hadn't experienced the Collective firsthand it wouldn't be hard to guess.

He remembered that the Admin was extremely strict. It didn't excuse rebellion, disobedience or mistakes. It was stricter on some members than others, depending on how useful and important that member was to him. This meant that Observer was the one that was under the most pressure, seeing how important his role in all this was. So, while with most other members it wouldn't do anything unless they were specifically caught doing something wrong, sometimes it would go after Observer purely under the suspicion that he _might_ be doing something wrong. 

Hell, if what Firebrand had heard from his cousin was true, sometimes it turned on Observer because it thought he might have had an incorrect thought.

Combine this with how horrible its punishments tended to be, physical beatings being one of its favorite things, and this made it very clear why Observer had been acting so strange.

Upon this realization, Firebrand couldn't help but feel his anger start fading. Part of him wanted to still be mad and to force Observer out with as much rage as before, but that just didn't feel right all of a sudden.

He felt like he should still get Observer out, but then where would that leave him to go? Back to the Collective was the only real option, and as much as Firebrand disliked him, he didn't want to send him back to the Admin. In fact, he found himself feeling bad for even considering doing that.

He suddenly hated how empathetic he was when a certain idea crossed his mind. Although as ridiculous as the idea seemed in theory, he didn't find himself as opposed to it as he'd expect.

He knew that they had some first aid supplies somewhere in the house, not quite a kit but it would be better than nothing. The couch was also available, so that would give Observer somewhere to rest. He just hoped that he'd be able to get Observer to let himself be helped.

Looking at the way he was being glared at, that didn't seem likely, but he knew that he'd just feel guilty if he didn't try. "Hey, Observer." He started, notably much less aggressive than before.

Observer looked up at him, then sighed. "Fine, I'm leaving." He sounded defeated as he started making his way to the exit.

Firebrand didn't even let him leave the kitchen before stopping him, grabbing his shoulder. He pulled away quickly when he realized that it was the shoulder of the bad arm. "That's not what I was gonna say."

That earned him another sigh, but Observer did stop. "What do you want, then?"

"I was just thinking, you don't _have_ to go, you could stay here and I could--"

"Yeah, I'm leaving." Observer didn't even let him finish, already seeing where this was going. 

Before the other could continue making his way to the exit, Firebrand moved to block his way. He also didn't give Observer time to say anything, though the annoyed look on his face made it clear that he wanted to, before speaking again. "No, you're not."

"Why not, just a minute ago--"

"Just let me help you." They both knew his intentions, so Firebrand figured he may as well be open about them. "You can leave, but just let it be after you're patched up, alright?"

Observer clearly didn't want that. He wanted to argue that he'd been through worse and had been able to take care of himself, he also wanted to just teleport out of there and save himself the trouble of fighting Firebrand on this. He knew that neither of those were good ideas though, the former member was known as 'the stubborn' for a reason, and he honestly wasn't sure if he had the energy to do the second option.

So he just groaned, crossing his arms. "Fine, but don't take too long."

Firebrand brightened up a bit at that and led him to the living room.

The whole process ended up going better than either of them had expected. Observer didn't fight him nearly as much as Firebrand had been prepared for, and to Observer's surprise Firebrand did know what he was doing.

In fact, aside from it being somewhat painful at points, Observer found it oddly relaxing. Aside from when the Admin decided he'd behaved well enough to get healed, he'd never let someone else help him before. He felt like that was something he might have to change.

They didn't talk too much during this, mostly because neither knew what to say. Firebrand kind of wanted to insult the Admin, curse it for doing something like this, but he knew Observer wouldn't like that. From what he knew, Observer was convinced that everything that thing did was for his own good, that it was just trying to help, and he had a feeling he wasn't going to be changing his mind anytime soon. So, that topic seemed best left untouched.

He ended up asking how the other members were doing, specifically Scars. He didn't get much of an answer, just "he's still alive if that's what you're wondering". That worked for him.

Observer kind of wanted to ask why Firebrand was bothering doing this, but he found himself not curious enough to bother trying to understand how the other's mind worked.

Once they were done, Firebrand sat next to Observer, giving him a gentle pat on the back. "Alright, I think we're done here, you're good to go."

Observer surprised himself when he started hesitating. He could finally leave, but for some reason he found himself not really wanting to. He wanted to say that it was just because he was tired, and where he'd been sat down was comfortable. That would be kidding himself though.

Sure, that was part of it, but he mostly just wasn't ready to go back. He wasn't about to actually admit that, but he knew that it was true.

So, he avoided looking at Firebrand when he spoke again. "You said that I don't have to leave, right?"

"Yeah, of course." Firebrand's smile widened. "Just don't cause any more trouble, and be sure to rest so you can heal properly."

Observer had a feeling that the Admin wouldn't like him staying here like this, and that he'd certainly pay for it later if it was found out. At the same time though, he found it hard to care. The exhaustion that was pulling at him was a lot stronger than the fear of another punishment.

So, against his better judgement, he settled more comfortably into his seat, resting his elbow against the arm of the couch and his head against his hand. 

Firebrand did the same, staying to keep an eye on him. Both because he wanted to make sure his instructions were followed and so he'd be there to explain everything to Noah when he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, most of the time I'm not really into pairing these two together in a non-hate way, but,,, this seemed Good  
> Also, to explain Observer's burns, a friend of mine came up with the hc that the Admin's tentacles leave chemical burns, and. I like that hc


	30. Stupid Goddamn Lousy Alternate Selves(Firebrand X Noah)

Firebrand was getting sick and tired of his past self's shit. He had been feeling this way for a while, and it seemed that with every action Noah took, these feelings intensified. It was getting to the point where he was starting to almost dread each time they interacted.

It wasn't that he didn't want to keep helping his past self, or that he had stopped caring. He still cared very much and wanted to do everything he could to continue helping. That's part of what made these feelings of animosity develop in the first place, actually.

You see, Noah really didn't make helping easy. He didn't make anything easy. He somehow found ways to make even the simplest of tasks drag on forever, to the point where it felt like no progress would get made at all. Even when given direct, simple instructions, Noah either found a way to fuck things up or refused to do anything at all until it was absolutely necessary.

Firebrand really didn't understand his need to make things so difficult. Why he was so apposed to following instructions half the time, or why he would sometimes just not pay attention and then suddenly act confused as to why he didn't know what his next step to take was. Or, god forbid, when he somehow managed to do both at once while simultaneously blaming his lack of progress on anything but himself.

There was all of this, as well as Noah's poorly handled anger issues, which just seemed to make everything worse. Noah just didn't know how to react rationally to things a lot of the time. When faced with a problem or an obstacle, instead of trying to think critically about how to get around it, there were times when he'd just throw a fit and give up, not unlike a toddler. At least, that's what it looked like to his future self. Of course, Firebrand knew that he was trying to get better in this specific area, but god damn it he really could be trying harder.

Firebrand often thought about how much they could have gotten done by now if Noah were more cooperative, or competent, or both.

The whole hassle with Milo's journal wouldn't have happened, or at least wouldn't have been such a huge roadblock. If Noah had just opened the damn thing, then he wouldn't have had to go through losing it in the Collective realm in the first place, and he could have learned everything it had to offer so much sooner.

But no, instead he put it off until it became its own federal fucking issue. He kept it in his house with him, opting to spend his time getting blackout drunk and being miserable instead of opening it. He put it off until he lost it, and then he had to get himself trapped in that realm in order to get it back. The only bit of solace his future self got in this chain of events was the knowledge that he at least opened it as soon as he could when he got back home.

Of course, Firebrand understood that opening the journal wasn't a simple task. It was difficult, and painful, and draining. He got that. He'd opened it himself in the past, so how could he forget?

This didn't change the fact that it would have been so much easier, both mentally and emotionally, if he had just gotten it done with instead of dragging it out like he had.

There were a lot of things Noah didn't handle well. When Firebrand thought about it, Noah could have handled pretty much everything he'd been faced with better.

When first faced with the Collective, he assumed that they were just people trying to fuck with him, which was partially true. He hadn't understood what exactly they were and had assumed that he could get rid of them through extra security measures and intimidation. Evan after he started realizing what exactly they were, it took him a while to take their demands seriously.

A lot of the first times he came face to face with the Administrator, he didn't run. In fact, in at least one he'd tried getting closer to the thing, tried tracking it down. In another, when it had appeared directly in his house, he'd had the bright idea of shooting at it. Of course, this did nothing, and he had to run in the end.

One could argue that both of those were problems near the beginning of this whole ordeal, so it was to be expected that Noah wouldn't react in ways that were all that smart or logical. That was fair, Firebrand understood that. He would be able to forgive it if his past self's demeanor actually improved, which it didn't, not too much anyway.

Instead, it seemed that as time progressed, Noah's ignorance and stupidity was replaced with obnoxious stubbornness in all the wrong areas. Namely in his willingness to cooperate, or lack thereof. Instead of not knowing how to handle things and reacting in terrible ways, he'd started just refusing to do what he needed to, despite knowing exactly what it was.

Firebrand had started leaving around fortunes in an attempt to guide him to what needed to be done, it was the best he could do without just showing up and spelling things out directly, which he wouldn't do even if he had the time for it.

This worked out...alright. Noah spent a long time doing his best to ignore the fortunes, but they did at least force him to keep his mind on what was important, if he actually read them. That didn't exactly make him do anything, but it was a start.

After Noah got back from the Collective realm, after getting the journal back and talking to two other future versions of himself, it seemed that he was finally starting to get back on track. He'd begun uploading the journal entries as often as he could, and had started working on putting together footage from when he'd been stuck in the realm, preparing a video to upload.

It was about damn time for both of these, and when Firebrand saw Noah actually making this progress, he was almost kind of proud. He was also relieved, as this meant they were finally starting to get back on the right track. Sure, it wasn't much, and quite frankly should have happened a long time ago, but it was a start. He was foolish enough to think that maybe this meant things were looking up.

These positive feelings didn't last very long. In between Noah's still too slow pace, and the occasional pointless ramblings he'd dump on Twitter while continuing to get very few things done, it was not easy to stay positive.

For a while though, he was able to handle it. It was better than before, and that's what mattered.

He told himself that at least. He tried to believe it too, but god damn. Noah did not make it easy.

The things that got to Firebrand the most were the Twitter rants. He knew that was a stupid thing to upset him, but he couldn't help it. They were all just so...bad. And pointless, all they did was waste time. They were also mainly Noah getting mad over nothing, which was always annoying.

He dealt with it for a while though. He told himself that at least Noah was doing _something_. This worked for him for some time. Eventually though, there was a breaking point.

Noah's latest Twitter tirade was that breaking point. Firebrand could handle a lot, but that? That was too much. It was basically all the things about Noah that pissed him off all compressed into one post.

Getting overly and needlessly angry? Check. Blaming his problems on other people? Check. Getting jack shit done? Of course.

The worst part about it though was the new aspect of it, there was something in it that he hadn't used before and quite frankly, it pissed Firebrand off to no end. What was that part? Well, it was the fact that Noah decided to use Firebrand as part of his bullshit nonsense.

He pulled the whole ' _someday i'll be a god, then you'll be sorry_ ' angle. He basically threatened the audience, implying that once he became Firebrand, they'd be in danger.

This angered Firebrand for multiple reasons. He wouldn't have appreciated his likeness being used in that context, even if what Noah was saying was something he agreed with.

He also didn't like Noah tossing out threats like that. Sure, he understood getting angry, but that was extremely irrational. Not to mention that their viewers never did a damn thing to hurt him. He was essentially getting mad at them for watching without helping, but he knew damn well that they couldn't help him, everything that was going on was out of their hands. So, as usual, he was mad over absolutely nothing.

On top of that though, he was doing all this while getting nothing done. The video he'd been working on was already a day late, and he'd been seriously slacking on the journal entries, having not posted any for the current month. So, instead of actually making himself useful and doing things, he decided the best thing to do was this shit.

The more Firebrand thought about it, the madder he got. Why was his past self like this? Why was he such a fucking idiot?

Firebrand typed up a response, essentially telling Noah how stupid he was being and telling him to get to work.

He wasn't satisfied with that though. If he knew Noah well, which he did, that likely wouldn't be enough to get the point through his thick skull. Not to mention that even if it was, a little extra couldn't hurt.

Firebrand decided that the best course of action was to pay himself a visit.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah was getting real sick and tired of his future self's shit. All of his future selves really, but mostly the one farthest into the future, Firebrand. He'd been feeling like this for a long time, and nothing that was happening was doing anything to change his mind.

For a while, he hadn't even been sure he could trust Firebrand. He'd been starting to get convinced that his alternate self was tricking him, and was really just out to harm him. If it weren't for his trip to the Collective realm, and his talk with his other self, he may have stayed in this mindset.

Now though, he knew that his future self was doing what he did in an attempt to help. For his own good, or what he saw as his own good.

He could understand trying to be helpful, but Firebrand was just too much. Not only that, but a lot of what Firebrand did just didn't actually feel helpful at all.

One of his most common methods was leaving around overly cryptic fortunes. Sure, these could be useful, in theory, but for the most part all they did was annoy Noah and kind of make him nervous, depending on what they said. Most of them just didn't make any sense, and the ones that he could decipher didn't help him at all.

Another thing his future self seemed to enjoy was watching him all hours of the fucking day. Although he didn't make his presence as known as the Admin or the Observer, Noah could tell he was there. He could feel the eyes on him.

Being watched like that didn't help. It made him feel vulnerable, and just generally unsafe. If he wanted to feel this way, he could easily achieve it by going back to the Collective realm again. Not to mention that it made him feel rushed as well, which made getting things done that much more stressful.

Another tactic Firebrand occasionally went with was just straight up shit talking him on Twitter. He didn't do this too often, usually just when Noah either posted something he perceived as stupid, or when he did something stupid that he wanted to publicly call him out on.

Noah guessed this was helpful, at least compared to his other methods. This was more direct, it was him spelling out what he meant to his past self.

That didn't mean it wasn't fucking annoying though. Noah didn't particularly like being dragged in front of all his followers. It was embarrassing at best and infuriating at worst.

The most recent incident of this was a mixture of those two. Quite frankly, Noah wasn't sure what to feel, and he was left just staring at his screen, rereading what Firebrand had typed to him, trying to collect his thoughts.

The first emotion that surfaced was rage, as usual. He couldn't believe his future self wasn't on his side with this. He thought that what he said was pretty justified. He had every right to be mad, didn't he?

After that though, after reading it a few more times, shame started to creep up in him. It occurred to him that he may have overreacted.

Okay, he definitely overreacted. He'd done so big time. What the fuck had he been thinking? What had he even been mad about it the first place? God, he was a fucking idiot.

After feeling thoroughly ashamed, he felt himself getting angry again. He was mad at himself for being so stupid to begin with, and he was mad at Firebrand for....for pointing it out, he guessed? For showing everyone else how dumb he was, maybe?

He wasn't actually sure why he was mad at Firebrand, he just knew that he was.

As upset as he was, he wasn't prepared for his future self to show up in his house. When he turned away from his computer to see the former Collective member, he'd been very startled.

"What the _fuck_ do you want?" Had been the first thing out of his mouth.

"You obviously need someone to keep an eye on you." As he spoke, Firebrand was standing with his arms crossed. He looked disappointed.

Noah mimicked his body language, looking more upset and uncomfortable. "Aren't you gonna watch me anyway, though?"

"Of course, but that's clearly not enough to actually make you behave."

"Hey, fuck you." This only irritated Noah further, maybe because he knew Firebrand was right. He also didn't like how smug the other seemed to be about it.

This actually summed up their interaction pretty well. Firebrand said something that pissed Noah off, because he was right and Noah didn't want to admit it. Noah's response would anger Firebrand, because it was him being his usual, ignorant self.

Firebrand was better at hiding his anger though, doing a good job at giving reasonable responses and keeping his look the same as it had been when he entered. This angered his past self even more.

This went on until Noah stood up, and was face to face with Firebrand.

"Okay, maybe you're right. Maybe I should have more done by now, but-"

"There's no maybe about it, it's been over a year since your last upload and your new video is already overdue." He had no issue with interrupting his past self. It was fun to see how much this got to him.

And get to him it did. Noah's glare intensified as he stayed right in Firebrand's face. "Fuck. You."

"You really think now is a good time for that?" He also enjoyed purposefully misinterpreting Noah's words. "You really haven't done anything to earn that."

"Shut the fuck up, you know that's not what I meant." Noah was hardly holding back from yelling. "Fuck off."

"I thought we already established that you can't be left alone, I'm not going anywhere." Firebrand felt his anger melting away into amusement. This was just way too easy. He couldn't help himself, he started to smirk a bit.

The anger that passed through Noah at that was hard to describe. It was far from the angriest he'd ever been, but god damn it was strong. It was strong enough that acting rationally was thrown out the window.

He grabbed Firebrand by the shoulders and told him to shut the fuck up.

Of course, this only caused his future self more entertainment. He couldn't stop himself from laughing a little. "Or what?"

There were many options that passed through Noah's mind. He could've pushed Firebrand to the floor, or hit him, or maybe even strangled him. None of those were all that smart, but they at least made sense given the situation.

He didn't do any of them though. Arguably, what he did do was much more stupid. What he ended up doing was pull Firebrand close to him, into an intense, angry kiss.

Firebrand didn't react in an expected way either. Almost immediately, he started kissing back, almost as if he'd been anticipating this.

Noah realized what he was doing when his future self's arms wrapped around his waist. As soon as the realization hit him, he pulled away in shock. He also muttered a quick 'what the fuck'.

Firebrand just responded with another small chuckle, moving one of his hands to cup Noah's face.

Noah went back to being mad, deciding that he could be as bewildered as he wanted later. "Shut the fuck up."

"Yeah, alright." He shrugged a little, pressing their lips together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title was originally a placeholder but honestly it's the best I'm gonna be able to think of  
> I honestly have been thinking about the concept of Pitch GFYS since Firebrand fucking roasted Noah on Twitter recently and this is what came of it  
> I also have no idea how to write dialogue rip


	31. Distance(Milo X Kevin)

When Kevin first started drifting from his best friend, he hadn't felt great about it. In fact, he felt pretty bad. It didn't feel right, they'd been close since they were children and suddenly distancing himself made him feel bad. He missed his friend, and he was sure that the feeling was mutual.

He knew that this was the right decision though. As much as he didn't like it, it's what was best for both of them.

At least, that's the conclusion he ended up coming to. It seemed like the smartest thing to do, and the most considerate in a way.

He decided on it after lots of deliberation, when he started piecing together what exactly was happening to him. Or, at least what he could understand of it.

For a while, he knew something was off, and that something was going on. For a long time though, he assumed it was his own fault, or just something wrong with him that he had no control over. It took a long time for him to break out of this way of thinking and for the truth to start falling into place.

When he started having blackouts that left him with hours, sometimes days in the worst cases, of memories gone, he thought maybe it was something wrong with his health.

When these blackouts would end with him waking up in areas that he knew were different from where he last remembered being, he thought maybe it was something wrong with his head, and a trip to the doctor might fix it.

Apparently, that assumption was wrong, because all they could peg him with was ADHD, and the meds he was given for it most definitely didn't help his symptoms.

He didn't start connecting the dots until another ailment popped up. He found himself starting to have fairly frequent nightmares, all of which were much too vivid for him to be comfortable with even after waking from them.

He thought they were unrelated to everything else until he started making an effort to remember them, and when he did, one detail about them stuck out to him. He started noticing a peculiar figure, one that stood out from the rest that normally showed up.

An impossibly tall, thin man, who lacked a face.

He couldn't help but get stuck on this, because he remembered those being details about what Milo would claim to see. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more sure he was that this was the exact same thing that was tormenting his friend. Coincidences like this didn't just happen, after all.

This understandably terrified him when it first occurred to him. This meant that what his friend saw was real, he just knew it. It also meant that whatever it was, it was after him now too.

Maybe it was after him to begin with and he just hadn't noticed until then. As unlikely as it seemed, it was always a possibility.

Whatever the case was, he could possibly be in danger, if any of the memories of Milo talking about it were any indication.

At first, he considered telling his friend about  what he'd been experiencing, thinking that maybe they'd have a better chance of fighting it together. It didn't take him long to scrap that idea, though.

The problem was, Milo never brought the tall thing up anymore. He seemed to be doing better, he didn't seem as scared. For all Kevin knew, he might not be seeing it at all anymore, or at least not nearly as much as he had in the past. If that were the case, then Kevin would just be bringing up things that could make his situation worse all over again, and he really didn't want that.

So for a while, he was just quiet about it. He acted as if nothing was wrong, at least did his best to do so. It felt wrong lying to his friend though, as much as he knew it was his best option.

After that, he began steadily cutting off contact with Milo. He felt it would be more suspicious if he stopped all at once, so he let the two of them drift apart.

Of course, it pained him to do this. He wanted to keep in contact and keep being friends, but every minute he spent with Milo weighed on his conscience. He couldn't stop thinking that maybe he was putting Milo in danger. It seemed like the thing had moved on to him, and he didn't want to risk having it go back to his friend. He would never be able to forgive himself if he were responsible for that thing going after the other again, so this seemed like the best option.

This plan did end up working, or at least seemed like it did. Over time they grew apart, until eventually there was no contact at all. 

It was hard to get used to at first. For a while, whenever he picked up a phone, he'd be almost overwhelmingly tempted to call his old friend. And when he learned to drive, whenever he did so it would always occur to him that if he wanted, he could visit, and technically nothing could stop him.

Thankfully, he always stuck to his guns and resisted these temptations. As difficult as it was, he remembered why he was doing this, and he didn't want to undo any progress he could've made.

It took a while, but it did get easier. Over the years the thoughts of Milo started coming less and less, and became much less distracting too, until they eventually were just a quiet nagging in the back of his mind every so often.

By the time he was an adult, it was almost like they'd never met in the first place. He had a few new friends, and a new home, as well as a consistent job. Enough had changed, and there was so much keeping him busy, that it was easy to not dwell on the past.

Sure, the occasional blackouts or nightmares would come and go, forcing him to remember, but it had been long enough that remembering wasn't as bad. In fact, being reminded of his situation this way was better, since it reminded him why he'd done all this in the first place.

All in all, he was actually doing pretty well. By most standards, his life was good, despite the complications.

So of course, that meant something had to come up and complicate things more. Apparently, things had just been too easy.

This new complication came in the form of a phone call. One weekend afternoon, his phone just started ringing. This by itself wasn't a problem, but the fact that the call was coming from a number his phone didn't recognize was a bit worrying.

After some deliberation, he decided to just answer and get it over with. He figured that it couldn't be too bad, the chances of it actually being something worrying were rather low after all.

As soon as the caller greeted him, he regretted his choice. 

The person apparently knew who he was, calling him by his first name. That wasn't the part that bothered him though, the worst part was how familiar they sounded. Almost suspiciously so.

He tried not to jump to conclusions though, forcing himself to stay calm as he responded. "How did you get this number?"

"Samantha gave it to me."

One of his coworkers. So, this person had called his workplace just to get in contact with him. He wasn't sure if his suspicions made that more or less worrying. 

"Who is this?" He asked, hoping that those suspicions were wrong.

"You old buddy, Milo Asher."

He felt his heart rate spike and stomach drop at that answer. It really was him, of course. 

"Who?" The reply almost physically hurt to give, but just about all the panic receptors in him were going off at once, and as much as he would've loved to just cave and try to reconnect again, his mind was screaming at him the reason they had separated in the first place, and he knew it wasn't worth risking it.

That didn't make it easy though. It was painful listening to Milo try to make him remember, telling the story of how they'd met in elementary and how they'd been best friends for years. 

Kevin just kept playing dumb the best he could, it was really the only thing he could do. The longer this lasted, and the more desperate Milo started to sound, the harder it was for him to stay calm about this whole thing. That wasn't exactly hurting his act though, he supposed. How upset he started to sound could be read as him being aggravated at being bothered.

After a while though, it was too much. He didn't know how much longer he could stand to listen to Milo's voice. So, he tried to wrap things up. "Say you did used to know me from elementary school, why are you calling now?"

The line was silent for a little while, and for a moment he was tempted to just hang up. Then, Milo spoke again.

"I want to know why you've been spying on me at night, Kevin."

After hearing that, he could feel his blood turn to ice. So _that's_ what he'd been doing during his blackouts? He hardly even knew how to begin processing that information, although he did know that he felt guilty about it.

He decided to really end this, threatening to call the cops if Milo didn't stop messing around, and abruptly hanging up.

He ended up having to block the number too, Milo kept calling over and over and not only did that make it harder to think, but it also made him feel worse about the situation.

Once he was finally alone with his thoughts, it was incredibly overwhelming.

All the feelings that he'd managed to get rid of from before were back. All he wanted to do was try to rekindle the friendship. The knowledge of that desire not being one sided only made it that much harder to deal with. It would be so easy, he could just call back, apologize, and explain everything. Sure, there was the possibility that he'd ruined his chances, but it was entirely possible to try.

He resisted the urge to do that though, and the other thoughts he was dealing with helped.

He was now aware that even though he'd been doing everything he could to stay away from Milo, it wasn't enough. Apparently, when he blacked out and wasn't in control, he spent his time watching over his old friend. 

He couldn't help but think about how bad this must have been for Milo. He couldn't even imagine how unnerving it would be to have someone you hadn't talked to for years show up at your house at night to spy on you.

The guilt he felt was almost sickening. He wasn't keeping the other safe at all, he wasn't doing nearly enough. Milo could still be in danger, because he hadn't tried hard enough to make sure they didn't see each other.

He stayed up all night agonizing over this newfound fact, mostly feeling bad about it, but also trying to think of ways to fix it.

In the end, the only solution he could think of was moving farther away. Maybe, if he was far enough, then he couldn't do whatever it was he was doing to endanger Milo now.

That's what he ended up doing, or tried to do, at least. It would require saving up quite a bit, and wouldn't be easy since his problems made it hard to keep jobs long enough to earn a significant amount, but it would be worth everything he earned if it meant that Milo was safe. That's all that mattered to him. All of the hardships would be worth it if it meant that his friend didn't have to suffer anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, an entry came out in Milo's journal that seemed to disprove this ship for good. Of course, I'm a stubborn bitch, so I tried to find a way to make it work anyway. Might be some mistakes here and there, but I tried to stick to canon for this


	32. Alliance(Firebrand X HABIT)

When Firebrand had first escaped the Collective, it hadn't been on his own. There was no way he could've figured out how to get out by himself, as much as he prided himself on being the smartest Noah in his timeline, he just didn't have what it took to escape without help.

The help he'd gotten had been a bit unorthodox. He'd received the admittedly much needed assistance from, as he'd described, a loathsome entity with mutual interests. That entity just so happened to be the demon known as HABIT.

Most people would steer clear of this, no matter how helpful the demon was, they knew it would likely be far too risky for the payoff to be worth it. Firebrand couldn't exactly afford to be picky, though. He took the deal he was dealt, consequences be damned, because he couldn't think of any other way to achieve his goal, and quite frankly anything would be better than being stuck in the Collective.

So, he accepted the help, and he made his escape nigh-seamlessly. He was actually kind of surprised at how smoothly it had gone, at the time. Of course, getting out was only one step of things, and he'd be faced with many challenges later, but he'd still expected the actual escaping process to be more difficult.

After he got out, he and the demon formed a reluctant alliance. Although, in all fairness, almost all the reluctance was on Firebrand's side. HABIT seemed rather welcoming toward the situation, almost happy about it maybe, but there was no way to be sure, it was hard to read him.

It wasn't that Firebrand wasn't grateful, he really was, he just couldn't help his hesitation. He felt like it was justified though, it would probably be stranger if he wasn't wary. After all, even if he wasn't well aware of HABIT's reputation, he still had his memories of interactions they'd had in the past, both pre and post Collective.

Post Collective weren't too bad, for the most part. Still unnerving, sure, but tolerable. It was the interactions they'd had back when he was still human that got to him.

Yeah, even then he'd been helping, but that didn't make the memories any less uncomfortable. Having someone threaten to cut your arm off wasn't exactly fun, nor was being lured- or rather forced- out of your house to attend the lesson that lead to this.

Getting stuck in HABIT's realm and sent back in time hadn't exactly been great either, especially considering he was still stuck in Jersey after the fact.

Still, he tried to keep an open mind, because it wasn't like he had much of a choice. They were still helping each other, and Firebrand still needed all the assistance he could get.

He wasn't a huge fan of all the help he needed, honestly. It seemed like he'd needed it as long as he'd been aware of what was happening to him, and before that too. Having to rely on other people got old after a while.

Like hell he was going to do anything about these feelings, though. This had worked for him so far, he'd managed to make so much progress, and he wasn't going to risk throwing all that away because he felt like going more rogue than he already had. He wasn't that stupid, not anymore at least. If he needed to rely on HABIT for a little while longer, then so be it.

This line of logic ended up being favorable to him, not just in the grand scheme of things, but also when it came to smaller necessities.

Smaller necessities, such as needing a place to stay.

He didn't exactly have many options. He stayed at his past self's place fairly often, 'current' Noah that is. He had to keep watch over him, so it worked out. It wasn't exactly the best arrangement though.

Watching was almost all he could do. Sure, he could give the occasional push to try and get Noah to do what he needed to, to make him actually realize what it was he needed to do, but he couldn't intervene more directly than that, nor did he want to. He couldn't hold his past self's hand through this whole process, and the thought of that wasn't appealing to either of them anyways. This didn't give him much to actually do.

It wasn't like Noah wanted him around much anyway. He sure as fuck didn't like being watched all the time, and he didn't perceive any of what Firebrand did as actually helpful, which pissed him off since he seemed to assume that any prolonged time together where answers weren't directly given to him was a waste of time.

That attitude pissed Firebrand off too. He didn't like being around someone that dense, especially since that someone was technically him. He didn't like to think that he could've been that dumb, even if it was years in the past.

So, staying with 'current' Noah never worked out for too long. He supposed the Noahs from other points in the timeline were an option, but many of them were the same, except for the ones near the beginning and end.

Staying around any of the beginning ones wouldn't work, not at all. Most of them didn't even know who he was, he'd just end up scaring them, whether he remained well hidden or not.

The ones near the end, closer to when they become him, weren't too good of a choice either. They were prickly and volatile, and honestly kind of unbearable. He couldn't handle being around them for much longer than it took to drop off any supplies they might need, and he felt like the feeling was mutual.

Not to mention, jumping around the timeline too much might not be the best idea. As far as he knew, it could fuck it up in ways he may not notice, and that was something he didn't want to risk.

At first, he was fine with this. He'd been fully willing to just stay in motels, or maybe abandoned buildings, or wherever worked. He only reconsidered after he was given an alternative, when he'd been talking about his situation to HABIT.

The demon had offered his own place, saying that they could be roommates. Or, housemates, whatever.

Firebrand had tried to politely decline, assuring that he'd be fine. After that though, he learned that he wasn't going to get a choice in the matter.

HABIT insisted, saying that he wouldn't allow the faux-god to be homeless, that just wouldn't do. When he was met with hesitance, he added that he still needed someone to replace Vinny, since the human had run off, and he could think of very few people better for the job than Firebrand.

Firebrand knew when he was beat, so he gave in. As unappealing as staying with the demon seemed, there was no point in fighting a battle he couldn't win.

When he moved in, he didn't expect good things. In fact, he kind of braced for the worst. After all, from what he knew about HABIT's personality and hobbies, signs didn't point to this being pleasant.

The first few days were spent setting some ground rules, which there weren't much of really. Firebrand was expected to stay out of the demon's way, not interfere with anything he chose to do, and in return HABIT would do the same. Occasionally they'd be expected to help each other, if that was needed, but they weren't expected to give that help without being asked to first.

They were also expected not to fuck with each other's things. Tidying up a bit if they felt the need was fine, but purposefully taking, displacing or breaking things was off limits.

This would likely be easier for HABIT, since Firebrand didn't exactly have many possessions that could get misplaced, all he really had was the journal.

He also didn't plan to mess with any of HABIT's belongings. Aside from not wanting to know what would happen to him if he did, it just seemed like common decency. You don't move into someone's house and immediately make a nuisance of yourself.

Aside from that, the rest of the rules were just general things you'd expect, and while Firebrand had never really had a proper roommate before, it didn't take him long to get used to living with one.

For a while he kept his guard up, careful not to fuck anything up. Not just out of fear of pissing off someone as volatile as HABIT, but he didn't want to burden someone who was going out of their way to help him.

After some time though, as he adjusted, he started letting his guard down. He also found that he enjoyed this arrangement more than he'd expected.

Sure, it wasn't the easiest thing to get used to, but it was nice. He definitely preferred this over having to decide which of his past selves he wanted to deal with, that was for sure.

Living together let him get to know the demon better, and while a lot of Firebrand's initial suspicions about him were true, it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd made it out to be. In fact, after learning more about his personality, HABIT was actually rather pleasant.

Maybe his standards were just low, but it was nice to be around someone who treated him with respect, and actually had his best interests in mind. Plus, underneath the rest of his personality, it turned out that HABIT was a fun and chill guy.

Well, 'chill' wasn't the right word, but he was more like a regular person.

He and Firebrand would often spend nights together, just staying up and talking. The former Collective member found it hard to relax enough to sleep, and HABIT likely didn't care enough about his vessel to act if it got tired.

Sometimes they'd talk about their plans, how they could potentially take down the Administrator, and the steps leading up to that.

Other times, Firebrand would do most of the talking. He could go on about a variety of different things, from how much he missed his past life, to how he felt bad for some of the Collective members and how they were stuck serving that thing. HABIT would mostly listen, commenting only occasionally. He was more quiet during these nights than most assumed he was capable of.

Of course, there were times where their conversations didn't focus on such serious things. Sometimes they'd just fuck around until the sun rose, or until some sort of responsibility struck. Of course, 'fuck around' meant many different things, depending on how they felt any given night.

Sometimes HABIT's dark humor would come into play and he'd joke around about some of the things he'd done in his previous vessels, which was enjoyable as long as Firebrand didn't think about how it was real people who were being talked about.

Another fun thing was when they would shit talk the Collective. Sometimes it was all the members, usually excluding Scars, and other times it was just the Admin. Either way, any time spent trashing them was bound to be great.

There were also times where they'd watch the videos uploaded to Noah's channel and critique them, which usually consisted of them both yelling at the screen about how much of a fucking idiot the god-to-be was.

There was one night though, or perhaps early morning, where 'fucking around' gained a new, slightly more literal meaning.

On this particular night, Firebrand was letting his housemate do most of the talking. The demon was on a roll, and really he couldn't think of anything of value to say.

HABIT wasn't exactly being consistent with what he was going on about, seeming to switch topics somewhat rapidly. That was fine though, he could keep up.

One minute he'd be talking about how much easier it was to find a vessel a few decades back, then he'd switch to how much of a disaster things seemed to be currently, and the next minute he'd be on about how much of an idiot Vinny was, or something to that effect.

At some point though, the topic somehow shifted to Firebrand. Coincidentally, this was also when the things that were being said stopped being complaints.

In hindsight, the comments he made weren't anything too wild. He mostly mentioned how bad of a hand the rogue god had been dealt, and how he was handling things really well given the circumstances.

Firebrand couldn't stop himself from smiling at the praise. It was nice to hear that someone thought he was doing well, since the people he helped sure as hell didn't seem grateful.

Things only got worse, or perhaps better, from there. HABIT brought up a lot of the things that had happened, and pointed out what he'd done right, as well as voicing a lot of the same grievances as the man he was speaking about.

Eventually, Firebrand joined in, kind of. Mostly he just added small comments, as well as enthusiastic nodding when he had nothing to say.

Of course, after a while HABIT said something that threw him for a loop. He'd looked at his roommate with what seemed like a genuine smile as he spoke. "You know, you're doing pretty good now, too." He paused for a moment, whether it was for effect or to let the other absorb the words was unclear. "You're a good roommate, I mean. It's nice having you around."

Maybe it was because he was a bit delirious, on his third night in a row without sleep, but Firebrand felt himself flush a little at that. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously!" HABIT said it as if it were obvious, nudging Firebrand in the shoulder with his own. "You're really the best person I've been around in forever."

Suddenly, the shadowy man was acutely aware of how close they were. Before he could think about moving away though, an arm was slung around his shoulders.

"Everyone else I've met in the past couple years has either been a massive idiot, really fucking annoying, or both." He pulled the other closer, resting Firebrand's head on his chest. "You're not like that, not anymore at least, you're cool."

Firebrand scrambled for a more comfortable angle, deciding not to try pulling away, feeling the already present heat in his face rise exponentially. "You.. you really think so?" After a moment without an answer, he gave another hesitant response. "Well... you're pretty cool too, you know."

"Yeah, I know." HABIT ran his fingers through Firebrand's hair for a moment, before deciding to keep his arms wrapped around the other and rest his chin on his head. "You're somethin' else, though. Probably in the best way possible."

Firebrand wasn't really sure what to say to that. It didn't seem like a response was really expected, or he didn't get hassled for his lack of one at least. He decided that saying nothing would be best, and he could think about that for a while.

Or, at least until he fell asleep. He found that his spot in the demon's arms was actually really comfortable, and even if given the choice he didn't really want to move.

He shifted closer in a way that he hoped was subtle and let his eyes rest shut, finally allowing himself some shuteye. He really hoped that when he woke up, HABIT would still be there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be done 20 whole days ago and I feel kinda bad for it being so late. My only excuse is that writer's block is a bitch  
> I also have a hard time finding anything original to do for these two, & even w/ this chapter I feel like it's just kind of a rehash of the concept I've already used before. Still, these 2 lads are fun, so I ain't too stressed about it


	33. Aftermath(Mr. Scars X Observer)

Mr. Scars was currently sat at one end of his bed, arms crossed. He wasn't the only one there, Observer was in the room too, on the opposite end of the bed.

Scars was choosing to ignore Observer though, pointedly staring at the ground and trying not to think about the fight they'd just had. He wasn't doing a very good job.

It didn't help that the after-effects of it were still fresh. His breath, that he was trying to catch, was still heavy and ragged. His throat felt almost raw from yelling, and shamefully enough also from trying to stop himself from crying, the lump that had choked him up earlier wasn't completely gone.

He was also kind of sore, since this was one of the rare altercations that had gotten physical. It hadn't been too bad, there weren't any major injuries. They did both have some bruises and scratches, however.

He rubbed at a particularly nasty bruise on his arm as he started tearing up a little at a memory of one of the things that had been said to him. Of course, as soon as he noticed he was doing this he roughly rubbed his eyes, mentally berating himself as he pulled his knees to his chest.

Observer wasn't faring much better, honestly. Anger was ebbing away far too slowly, and he could feel himself still shaking a little from it.

Despite this though, the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off, and he didn't have the energy in him to get the fight going again. He also knew there wouldn't be much point, arguing with Scars was like trying to talk to a brick wall, it would be better if he just did his best to let it go.

Coming down from his rage induced high also meant that the pain from the hits he'd sustained was much clearer now, one side of his ribs in particular was throbbing pretty badly.

Of course, he'd felt worse. Bruises and scratches were far more tolerable than broken bones and lacerations, the Keeper made sure he knew that much. He wouldn't be bothered by the pain he was feeling if it weren't for who caused it. Scars was the one who'd hit him, who had decided to escalate things after refusing to back down and listen to reason.

As far as Observer was concerned, all of this was the other rook's fault. He was the one who started it, and then got so damn hurt when the one he'd provoked had decided to fight back.

Scars wasn't the one who had decided to start fighting dirty, bringing in personal things usually left untouched. That didn't matter though, because he'd been the one who'd started the fight in the first place, and Observer was completely allowed to get a little personal if it meant defending himself.

Besides, Scars was the one who had went too far. Sure, Observer had insulted the other member's cousin, but that didn't give him permission to start slandering the Keeper like he had. And then he'd had the gall to get even more mad when this upset Observer, as if that hadn't clearly been his goal.

Plus, as was previously mentioned, Scars was the one who'd decided to get physical. They could have easily kept this as a minor altercation, a shouting match, but that scarred sack of shit had felt the need to get violent.

Observer had been tempted to go for some of Scars' known weak points while fighting back, the stitches in his throat in particular. He hadn't though, because as mad as he'd been, possibly killing the other didn't sound like a good idea. He'd had enough foresight in him to know it'd be something he'd regret.

Scars hadn't been as courteous, however. He landed a good few of his blows in areas that were still tender from semi-recent punishments, some in wounds that could have reopened and started bleeding if they'd been hit harder. And sure, no real damage had been done, but it could have been, and that was the point.

Observer felt a harsh throb of pain, and with it came a fresh wave of anger.

He dared to sneak a glance over at Scars, to see how the other seemed to be dealing with this. He tried to be discreet about it though, not yet ready to catch his colleague's attention.

He wasn't sure if what he saw was what he expected or not. The other entity was curled up, hugging his knees to his chest, his gaze fixed somewhere on the ground below.

Observer's first thought was how absolutely pathetic he looked, and how much that pissed him off. He had the nerve to sit there and act like he was the victim in this situation, looking almost like a kicked puppy when it was his fault any of this happened in the first place.

Observer's second thought was also how pathetic Scars looked, except instead of anger, this time it stirred a bit of pity.

Of course, he immediately tried to push this feeling away, because now was _not_ the time for that. He didn't feel bad, he had no reason to, and he wasn't going to listen to the tug in his chest that tried to tell him otherwise.

Then he noticed the redness around Scars' eyes, and it hit him that the other had actually cried over this. Clearly not too much, since Observer hadn't even heard him do it. He'd probably tried to force it away as soon as he felt the tears welling up in his eyes, that's what he usually did when he was around other people.

The shadowy entity tried to be angry at this, still somewhat determined to drag this conflict out. He tried to reason that this was Scars being over-dramatic, and that he clearly had some sort of victim complex, that he was making this out to be worse than it really was for potential sympathy.

He just wasn't feeling that, though. He wanted to think those things were true, but he knew they weren't. Scars didn't cry over small things, he hardly ever cried at all, only really shedding tears in response to severe physical pain, and things that genuinely hurt him. He also wasn't the type to use tears as a ploy to gain sympathy, that was more his mother's thing.

Observer couldn't stop the rush of pity that came with that realization. Begrudgingly, he thought back on their recent interaction trying to find where exactly he'd fucked up that bad. Upon doing this, he found that he'd fucked up much more than he'd previously thought. Truthfully, he was kind of ashamed that he didn't realize this earlier, everything seemed so painfully obvious now.

He sighed and decided to stop trying to rekindle his anger, letting it fall away. Of course, he was still kind of aggravated, but that was currently overshadowed by how bad he felt.

With a bit of hesitation, he moved over so they were closer together. He didn't want to get too close yet, leaving a foot or so of space between them, just close enough to get the other's attention.

Scars didn't acknowledge him much, glancing over for a moment before returning his gaze to where it was.

Observer had already known he'd have to be the one to take initiative here, so that was fine. "Hey, I'm.." He drew in a breath. "I'm sorry... about what happened."

It was kind of a piss-poor apology, he'd had to force it out, and ended up mumbling most of it, but in his defense he couldn't remember the last time he'd needed to actually apologize to someone.

Multiple emotions flashed across Scars' face. First anger, then when that settled there was confusion. "Why? You're not the one who started it." He made a point of not looking at Observer as he spoke.

"Maybe not, but I made it worse than it had to be." He argued. "I really shouldn't have dragged Firebrand into it, that... wasn't okay."

"Well, I shouldn't have said anything about the Admin." Scars reasoned. And then, in a smaller voice, "Besides, most of what you said was right anyway."

"No, you shouldn't have." Server agreed. "But I didn't give you much of a choice." He moved a little closer, resting a hand on Scars' back. When the other didn't pull away or shrink in on himself any more, he kept it there. "And, don't say that. You need to keep believing in him, _someone_ has to." He risked a small smile. "Besides, I really don't think he'd appreciate seeing you doubt him like this."

Scars released his legs from his grip, letting his feet rest on the floor. He did keep his arms firmly crossed, though.

Despite the lack of a verbal response, Observer took this as a good sign. He also took this as a sign to keep going, to try and fix this the rest of the way. "I'm also sorry for.. for hitting you."

Scars actually snorted at that. "You're not the one who started that either."

"That doesn't mean it was okay for me to do it." Sure, technically it had been in self defense, but it had also only escalated things farther. "You didn't exactly have a bad reason for starting it, either."

"If you say so." The other rook relaxed enough to let his arms drop, resting his intertwined hands in his lap. "I'm sorry too, though." He conceded. "I didn't actually hurt you though, right?"

"You've done worse in the past, this is nothing compared to when you first got here." Server shrugged. "I probably won't even notice it when the day's over."

Scars' lips twitched a bit, into something that was almost a smile. He certainly looked relieved, his previously tense shoulders lowering a bit.

Observer's grin widened at that, now his colleague hardly seemed in worse condition than usual. "Now, stop looking so miserable, it really isn't a good look on you."

This time Scars really did smile. "So, you admit I do sometimes look good?" He picked up the banter easily, seemingly happy to go from pale territory and back to pitch. He also actually turned to look at the other.

"I never said that." Observer rolled his eyes. "This just makes you look worse than usual, and your usual is already pretty bad."

"Ah, so you stick around for my wonderful personality, then?"

Observer didn't have a response to that, at least not one that would help him. So, instead of responding, he grabbed Scars by the collar and pulled him in for a kiss.

It didn't last too long, and when they separated, Scars looked incredibly smug. "So I'm not really hearing a no."

"Shut up." Server said pointedly, moving to tangle a hand in the other's hair. "Maybe all aspects of you are bad and I only keep you around because I'm a masochist."

"That would make both of us, though. That won't do."

"Well, then you better start getting some positive traits soon, because you're really not impressing me right now."

Scars' only response to that was to laugh, and rest his forehead on Observer's. "Yeah, I can try. No promises, though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, someone requested some Scars & Observer after a nasty, heated fight,,, back in April. Idk if you're still here in this fandom n all, but if you are,, I got u fam. I'm not sure if this is really what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoyed it, b/c I know I had a ball writin it


End file.
